Hyuga
by JanuaryFriend
Summary: The heartbreaking saga of Konoha's darkest clan from its beginning to destruction. :NejiTen, NaruHina, Hanabi, Hiashi, Hizashi, and OCs: HIATUS. UNDERGOING REVISION.
1. Beginning: Hyuga Ancestors

_Author's notes: My take on the origin of the Hyuga clan. Original characters here, but future chapters will have all your favorites. Some stories will be dark._

**Beginning**

The young _daimyo _places his fat-fingered hands upon his hips and stares down his greasy, bulbous nose, peering at the creature before him. He has to look hard- this cavernous room, located at the top of the castle donjon, is dim with the faded light of the setting sun. The family's maids have not dared to enter and light the lanterns, too frightened to be present when their lord is presented with his newly-born child. Their discretion is perhaps warranted; the longer the man stares, the more ruddy his bloated face becomes, and this is a sure sign of his impending anger. Denial is thick in his voice, "It's not mine, it can't be."

The child in question has been wiped clean and now lies prone upon an aubergine cushion, customarily layed out for its father's inspection. Despite the chill in the air, the babe is quite naked, and its swollen organs proclaim it to be undoubtedly male. The severed umbilical cord, tied off with a narrow strip of yellow silk, still dangles from his navel. The stringy, twisted tube has yet to dry out, proof of the recent birth. Such an event, especially so soon after his arranged marriage, should leave the _daimyo_ feeling ecstatic; staring down at the fleshy stump sticking from the child's rounded belly, the nobleman feels nothing but disgust.

He can count, but barely. Someone should have made that fact known to his bride.

Sitting upon the _tatami_ next to the resting babe is a woman, beautiful despite the tired circles beneath her ice-blue eyes. She is even younger than her husband- fourteen years in the coming winter- but due to the circumstances of her life and the past year in particular, she is infinitely more mature. Even in the face of her new spouse and master's anger, her manners are impeccable; manicured hands- one nail has been torn off during the difficult birth- perch delicately on the green matting in front of her, and she bows her head to the floor, her many silken kimono rustling around her weary body. "My Lord, I am your wife by law, and this is my child. It is yours also."

The man's face grows even more red at her words- how dare she sit before him and so adamantly feed him falsehoods! As if to exacerbate the situation, the baby blinks for the first time, turning its eyes up toward the _daimyo_. Rather than the milky blue or darkest black common in newborns, this child's orbs are perfectly white, as though the gods have set harvest moons into its little face. Taken aback, the lord retreats a step before turning his own gaze to his back to the woman sitting before him. "In that sense, perhaps, but this thing- This is not of my seed! No one in my esteemed family ever had such fey white eyes! It is a demon's spawn!"

The so-called creature of evil yawns widely, showing toothless gums. A moment later, the baby falls back asleep, completely oblivious to the furor that his untimely birth has caused. Next to him, his mother snorts at the ridiculousness of her husband's statement. As if this small innocent child could be a demon! Impossible. Not when his father was the most spiritually gifted- The noble lady turns her thoughts away from such distant memories, returns them to her mate and the unsavory situation at hand. Passing off a bastard is hard to do, and will require all of her considerable skill. "Are you saying then, that these eyes of his come from my bloodline?"

The man gulps then, and looks anxiously away from the pair. By nature he is a coward, the second son of an upstart general who was granted a fiefdom after establishing a peasant army. The force- angry over high taxes which had not been slashed during famine- had nearly overthrown the monarchy ten years ago. The rebellion had only ended after the emperor had given gifts and favors to the group's leaders. The hand of the ruler's niece, when she came of age, was one of those boons. The _daimyo's_ wife is of aristocratic birth, descended from the gods themselves, and it is treason to insult the royal family. "No," he grumbles. "I am not saying that."

The wife inclines her platinum blonde head, feigning subservience while hiding the victorious smile that comes to her face. Her ill-tempered husband is amazingly easy to manage; unlike her, he has not been breed for positions of power or the mindgames that come with them. Such is the peril of being the ignored second child, the one who goes untutored because he never expects to inherit. Reaching out a long-fingered hand, the woman brushes gently at the wispy dark hair of her baby, and vows that _he_ will at least be ready to lead when the time comes. "Then we are agreed. He is _our_ child, and his eyes are nothing to be concerned about."

It takes the _daimyo_ a full three minutes to realize that his gorgeous wife has brushed his concerns aside, that she expects him to act the cuckold and pretend before the whole realm that this strange male-child is his own. If she gets her way, everyone will believe that the baby's freakish eyes are a trait inherited from _his_ blood. The thought causes the lord's anger to build, and his murderous glare quickly returns. He begins to pace the large room, working himself into a frenzy. A vein throbs in the top of his head, easily visible against his shaved pate. "No, this taint came from somewhere... You! You have been unfaithful to me!"

His wife closes her azure eyes and sighs exaggeratedly, tired of the conversation. Ever since she married the man still stalking around the room, there have been rumors of infidelity, and they are sure to be worse now- has she not just birthed a full-term babe after only six months of marriage? Much of the gossip is true; it is a well known that she and her retinue had set out from her uncle's northern stronghold in the autumn of last year, on their way to this castle for her wedding. An early snowstorm had trapped them in the mountains, and they had been forced to shelter at a monastery until the spring thaw. What had happened there-

"I will not accept this! I won't! This unnatural brat- he isn't mine, and he cannot stay! I won't abide by this! Do you hear me?"

The young woman ignores him, her mind still on the events of that long winter. It is not until the baby- awakened either by the unceassing ranting of the petulant _daimyo_ or the chilly air in the chamber- begins to wail that she opens her bright eyes. She covers the child with a small woolen blanket that had been folded next to the cushion for just that purpose, then turns and smiles coldly at the man. Her beautiful face is as glacial as the weather outside, and the tone of her voice is every bit as harsh. "You won't accept this? You forget who you're dealing with, Husband. One word from me, and my uncle will have your head-"

"Stop!" The _daimyo_ roars, striding forward and looming over his small wife. For a moment it appears he will strike her, but the smug look on her face unmans him. His arm drops to the side, shaking with his rage. He knows that her threat is not an idle one; his late father had disbanded most of the unruly peasant army after being granted the land, and what remains will not be enough to fend off an invasion from the emperor. His wife, with her better connections and greater resources, has outwitted him again. Unless... "You think I don't know who you screwed around with? It was that monk, wasn't it? That supposed saint? I'll kill him, I swear it!"

The shouts echo throughout the room, mingling with the nerve-wracking cries of the baby. The lord kicks a hole in the _shoji_ door before stomping out, calling loudly for a lantern, his guards, and a groom to saddle his fastest horse. The lady remains sitting in the same position, exhausted from the both the birth and the difficult encounter. The mocking smile slowly falls from her face, to be replaced by something more soft. She reaches out a finger to skim at the little boy's soft cheek. Fathered at the monastery by a bodhissattva, who knows what her son may become? Or for that matter, what strange powers he may have inherited?

Tears prickle in those blue eyes, but the lady refuses to let them fall. What she and the monk had shared- besides an interest in the spiritual- had undoubtedly been love. She knows that he felt the same, can feel it in her heart. Word had come about the time she began to show, roughly two months after her marriage to the _daimyo_, that the man had hanged himself in his spartan cell, unwilling to bear life without her. Now, in a tragic turn, she must learn to do without the only part of the him that she has left. Raising her voice in order to be heard over the sound of the infant, she calls, "Tsubame? Please come here. I have a favor to ask of you."

A plain-looking woman melts silently out of the shadows- there is no telling how long she had been there, or how much she had overheard- and comes to kneel before the daimyo's wife. "Madam?"

The lady nods toward the squalling newborn, and her tears do spill over then. If her child is to survive, he must be taken south by her longtime maid; the middle-aged woman is one of those secret people, a _shinobi_, and she should be able to guard the boy and teach him to use any of the abnormal skills that he may have running through his veins. "My husband has gone to the mountains with his guards. He will be back by tommorow night, and you know very well that he will not have accomplished his goal- you can't kill a dead man. When he returns, my child's life is forfeit. I cannot accept such a thing. Please, you must get him out of here."

Her speech at an end, the diamyo's wife bows her head, her long blonde hair sliding forward to hide her anguished face from view. Diamond droplets splatter unceremoniously upon the _tatami_ between the two women, soaking quickly into the newly replaced matting. Ignoring the noble lady's moment of weakness, Tsubame picks up the child and swaddles him tightly in the blanket. His cries stop, but they go unnoticed for the plans that are already circulating in the _ninja's_ quick-thinking head; what to take with them, the route, how to shake the pursuit which is sure to come... "It shall be done as you suggest, My Lady. But... what shall I call him?"

The young woman reaches into the long sleeve of her kimono, fingering the cool steel of the small blade hidden there. The weapon serves to remind her that she is _samurai_, and that her life is one of duty. She will bear this parting because she has to. For the sake of her uncle's alliance, she will compose herself and await her husband's return, and then she will continue to act the role of the pretty and subservient wife. It will be as though she never commited the damning sin of adultery, never gave birth to another man's child. "Call him what you like, but his family name must be that of my husband. It is the cruelest joke that I can think of."

"As you wish, Madam Hyuga."


	2. Matchmaker: Neji

_Authors notes: What's more romantic than Neji standing up for Tenten? An OC here, in the form of his grandmother._

**Matchmaker**

The autumn season has barely begun- the afternoons are still comfortably warm and golden- when Grandmother Masako summons Neji into her lavish reception room. Ever the hostess, she begs the young man to be seated upon a crimson silk cushion that has been placed before a low mahogany table so ardently polished that it reflects their images. Neji greets the matron with the necessary reverence and takes the proffered seat, marveling at her appearance. Tenten once confided in him that she thought Masako the most beautiful person she had ever seen, and although the old woman must now be at least sixty-five, he is inclined to agree.

Masako's complexion is flawless, her skin pale and unblemished. There are wrinkles, of course; the smallest of crow's feet and two lines running from the nose to the mouth, but expertly applied cosmetics render them nearly invisible. Her hair is knotted fashionably at the neck, still thick and black as a midwinter's night. As Neji watches, she sinks down onto a matching cushion at the other end of the table, moving with a grace that even a professional dancer would envy. Masako's limpid dark eyes meet his powerful monochrome orbs, and she smiles warmly at him while pouring the most aromatic lemongrass tea into a pair of porcelain cups.

Neji is her first grandson and, regardless of the fact that one of Hiashi's daughters will inherit, her favorite grandchild. There has always been a special place in her heart reserved for him.

Masako passes him the delicate cup- like everything else in the room, it is a work of art, with blues and greens and grey all mixed together like the roiling sea to the east- and Neji takes it in both hands with a polite little bow, blowing gently upon the steaming contents before lifting it to his lips. He sips appreciatively as his grandmother resolutely places her own vessel down upon a matching saucer, the liquid untouched. The formalities over, they can now get down to discussing the business at hand. The thought which is now all important in Masako's mind will finally be addressed. "Neji, you are a man now. Nineteen, if I am not mistaken?"

"Yes, Honorable Grandmother."

"It's time you were married."

Stunned by the track the old woman has taken, Neji ceases the courteous slurping of his favorite tea. His right hand gently sets the delicate cup into its awaiting ceramic cradle, eyes watching as the ripples in the brown liquid gradually disappear. He does not know what to say to the grande dame- with his busy life, wedlock is not something the _shinobi_ has thought much about. There is a woman that he is attracted to, but Neji has never confessed such a thing, not even to her, and so they are likely years away from settling down. If she would even want him, that is. Blinking twice, he tries to find a response. "Honorable Grandmother, I-"

Masako grows worried when the young man trails off, unable to find the words he has so valiantly searched for. Dark eyes fall to her lap, where she smooths an imaginary wrinkle from her scarlet and gold kimono, fingers sliding silently over the tightly woven threads. The pattern beneath her fingertips is an appropriate one- falling leaves- chosen like all of her wardrobe to coincide with the seasons. The elderly lady pauses and thinks over her next few words, knowing instinctively that she must proceed with caution. Her grandson, like most Hyuga males, has a volatile temper with regard to the family hierarchy. "The elders have been thinking about it-"

Neji's ebony head snaps up, his angry opalescent eyes meeting the blank stare of his grandmother and effectively silencing her. Many years' worth of bitterness well up inside him, fueled by the mention of the clan representatives. He has long since forgiven his Uncle Hiashi for the role the man had played in his father's tragic death, but the elders of the family are another story. They are branch members, no better than himself, and yet they sacrificed Hizashi without a second thought. There has never been an apology from his ancient kin. Neji's body tenses and his next words come from between clenched teeth. "Another way to control me, no doubt."

For the first time since their visit began, Masako's light-hearted act falters, her confident smile vanishing. It is a rare occurrence, but Neji's tantrums have always served to remind her of his embittered father; of the only child she has thus far lost to duty, the one whom she had perhaps loved best of all, because he so badly needed that love. The ache in her aged heart is still fresh, as though she were wounded just yesterday and not some fifteen years ago. Angered at the turn the conversation has taken, she glares at her grandson and lowers her voice in warning. "You know better than to say such things. Hyuga have died for less."

The statement hangs heavy between them. Immobile, they face each other for long heartbeats, each angry and anguished by their memories of the man who links them.

Some time later the clock upon the wall chimes the hour, interrupting their pained reminiscence. By the third and final musical ring, Masako has regained her composure, the beautiful, serene mask falling back into place. This is how she has survived for so long among a family who sees everything- if she is a little overzealous, so be it. "Anyway, they've asked me my thoughts, and I do know a few eligible girls. They are from good families, of course, with nice dowries. And all of them pretty enough, though in your position you would do better to marry for convenience than looks. Why Neji, I could even arrange for the granddaughter of the _daimyo_!"

"Grandmother-"

"Of course, your uncle would have to agree to the match, which means your grandfather would have to consent, as well. They might think we are aiming too high, given your cadet status…" Masako trails off purposely, leaving both the idea of power and the implied taunt hanging for her grandson. She gives him a moment to think it over, all the while asking herself: How high can she push Neji? Could he advance enough to become the Hokage? With her connections, could he even become _daimyo_? The rank itself does not matter so much, as long as he is positioned above the family head. Then he can destroy the ancient and terrible clan hierarchy and take revenge for Hizashi.

Marriage to one of the spoiled and selfish Ladies of the capitol? Trapped forever in that huge castle, surrounded by aristocrats whose very morals were dictated by money and whose backstabbing could rival the Hyuga family? Neji shakes off his disbelief and takes his chance, having finally worked up his courage- admittedly, the anger at the elders had helped a lot in that respect. At least the feeling proves good for something. His next words unwittingly send the old woman's plot to the graveyard, a house of cards tumbling down. "No, thank you, Grandmother. No arrangement will be necessary. I have no desire to be married."

Masako laughs the young man's declaration off, throwing back her coiffed sable head. The movement causes her carnelian earrings to flash in the light and exposes her long white throat to view. The elderly woman's voice is a pleasure to hear, the quiet chortling like the gentle tinkling of silver bells. Even so, Neji remains determined rather than amused and, seeing his serious face, she sobers. Matte vermilion lips purse. "Really now, Neji. Would you rather do as your great-uncle Hirohito suggests and marry Hinata? It's perfectly legal, if somewhat disturbing. And it would solve a great deal of the problems between you two."

Neji is aghast, and it shows upon his normally stoic features- his eyes are wide, set into his pale face like twin full moons, and his mouth hangs slightly open in consternation. After a moment, he remembers his manners and closes his jaw, the teeth coming together with more force than necessary. His cousin has grown into quite the lovely and accomplished young woman, and Neji has managed to put aside the hatred that had existed where she is concerned. Even so, the idea of wedding her, of taking her to bed and giving her the child she needs as the clan's heir is reprehensible. "I won't do it, and there's no way they can-"

Masako waves one bejeweled hand vaguely, the movement causing her heavy silken sleeve to rustle against the fine light green under-kimono she wears. The sound is gentle, like the incoming wash at the seashore, but it does nothing to put her tense grandson at ease. She is forced to once more cut him off, to attempt to verbally calm him."Relax, Neji. There is no one who agrees with him, on the council or otherwise. And anyway, Hinata is doing a splendid job managing that Uzumaki boy- it's obvious he'll be Hokage. But really child, what's wrong with you? No marriage? And you never go sneaking off to Tanzaku Town and its prostitutes like some of your cousins. Do you prefer men?"

He gives her a flat look, one that he has perfected since childhood. It is a warning; his sexuality- or lack thereof, in this instance- is his own business and no one else's.

Masako ignores him; she is fast losing patience with his attitude. This conversation is not going the way she had planned, and the old woman cannot figure out why her grandson would be so resistant to her ideas. She frowns as a new thought occurs to her, one that is very displeasing given the history of their family. A small line appears between her shaped brows, more a testament to her distress than actual age. "Please tell me you didn't- Have you learned nothing from your father's example? Neji, the clan will not accept such a relationship, or condone your behavior. You will ruin both the girl and yourself."

Neji's mouth tightens and his white eyes drift past his angry grandmother. She has given him the seat of honor, facing the other end of the well-lit room, where the _shoji_ doors have been opened to allow a view into her private garden. The leaves there are falling, drifting slowly to the ground in a many-hued splendor. A few come to rest upon the still, reflective surface of Masako's _koi_ pond, whirling in erratic patterns like little boats trapped in the water's eddies. Neji does his best to get lost in the beautiful sight and let go, but he has never enjoyed being lectured, and he certainly does not care for his twisted family deciding his future.

Moreover, he really dislikes the low way in which his grandmother keeps referring to Tenten.

Masako blunders into dangerous territory, blinded by her worry for her grandchild. His continued silence and refusal to acknowledge her presence are not encouraging; perhaps her worst fears have been confirmed and he has followed in his father's footsteps, getting involved with a girl without the family first being made aware. And not just any female, but his teammate, a girl whose parentage is even in doubt! Like much of the nobility, Masako has an inbred prejudice for those whose lineages are not as impressive as her own. It turns both her eyes and her tone icy. "You'd better not have eloped with that harlot. Have you slept with her?"

That does it. Neji stands abruptly and bows, using the minimum of courtesy allowable. His grandmother has been perhaps his biggest- and sometimes only- related supporter throughout his difficult childhood. He is eternally grateful for that, but it does not give the old woman the right to pry into his life and try to dictate what actions are acceptable to him. Or whom he should see, if he ever gets around to it. Staring down at Masako, he tells her in stilted tones, "No, I have not had any sort of relations with Tenten, and I would ask you to keep your questions to yourself in the future. But I will marry no one else, and this conversation is finished."

The young man stalks toward the door, his back straight in the white robes he has once again taken to wearing. Masako is suddenly seized by an irrational fear- she is about to lose this child, as surely as she lost his father before him. Even so, she cannot simply apologize and allow him to throw his life away. The elderly woman feels the first tears prickle in her dark eyes; she forces them back, and raises her melodious voice, pleading with her retreating grandson. "Don't do this Neji! She's an orphan, a peasant at best. She would never fit into this family, or be happy. You've spent too much time with her, that's all. Let me introduce you to-"

The _shoji_ rattles loudly as Neji slams it shut behind him. One of the paper squares tears loose, and through it Masako sees him disappear down the hall. It is the last time they speak to one another.


	3. Sisters: Hanabi

_Author's notes: Hanabi is a hard character to write, mostly because I don't know anything about her. Obviously, she's stronger than Hinata and probably mischievous, but what else? Is she smart, spoiled? My Hanabi may be a little OC, but I tried to get into her head._

**Sisters**

It is early summer, and the weather is already unseasonably hot, the afternoon sweltering. Despite the temperature, Hanabi is hard at work in the small corner of the estate that serves as the Hyuga training field, viciously striking at a straw mannequin. Her Byakugan is activated and the seven year old girl watches with disappointment as her rigid fingers land a half-inch away from the pinprick in the dummy's sack covering. Although she is closer now than an hour ago, she could still scream with frustration- that half-inch may as well be a mile. As the probable heir of the noble clan, perfection is expected and little less will be accepted.

Perfect, she most certainly is not.

Hanabi grits her small white teeth- she has yet to lose even one, a testament to her age- and tries the move again. She knows her faults, has learned them by rote and can recite them in the same dry, monotonous tone they are so often delivered: she is too willful, possessing an energy that is unseemly for a girl her age, heiress or not. She can often be loud, and is too familliar with some people, too shy and retiring with others. She lacks compassion. But she is given credit for her tenacity, her willingness to push her tiny body to the breaking point if it means impressing her father or the elders who so closely watch her every move.

Her bloodline limit registers a movement behind her, and Hanabi pauses in her unrewarding training, turning her full attention in that direction. She watches with barely concealed interest as a female member of the family's cadet branch comes running toward her, grey kimono hem flapping open as her thin white legs pump awkwardly over the brown lawn. Himeno is the bespectacled girl's name- she is perhaps three years older than Hanabi, a first cousin. Not that such a relationship even matters. The dull green symbol branded onto the other female's pale forehead sets them apart, even if the blood running throughout their veins does not.

"Lady Hanabi," Himeno gasps by way of greeting. She attempts a proper bow, but instead ends up falling to her knobby white knees and struggling to breathe. So close to the training dummies, the grass has been worn away. A cloud of fine red dust rises from the ground when the older girl drops, and as Hanabi finally bends over in an attempt to hear the coughed words, it sticks to both their sweat-soaked bodies. Disgusted, Hanabi leans back and looks down upon her asthmatic cousin with undisguised contempt. Imagine, being so tired just running from the house! How could this pathetic girl gapsing before her be Hyuga?

Himeno finally catches her breath. She looks up at the younger girl and, without bothering to wipe the dirt from her glasses, spits out her message. "Have you heard, Lady? About Lady Hinata?"

Standing beneath the blazing sun, Hanabi's skin turns suddenly chill. Something must have happened; her older sister has been gone for days with her genin team. She must have done so well at the Chunin Exams that their father has finally formally declared her his heir, despite the fact that she- Hanabi- is the better fighter and more outgoing person. Soon their old grandfather, the former clan leader, will come for her with his large hands glowing, and mark her forehead with that terrible curse. Hanabi will become a nobody, just another faceless drone to serve the new queen, one of so many, and any privileges she once had will be lost to her.

Hanabi shivers at the horrid thought.

"Lady, are you all right?" Himeno has been watching the younger girl closely through her dusty lenses, searching for a sign of weakness or anxiety. She sees the blush of color- caused by training in the high heat- drain from her cousin's naturally wan-complexioned face. When Hanabi nods with poorly feigned indifference, Himeno continues her tale, sad tears welling up in her strange hazel eyes. "We just got word back at the house; the exam preliminaries have ended, and your sister- They say she fought hard, but she's half dead. They've taken her to the hospital, but her heart is all messed up. Lady Hanabi, she could die!"

At first, there is just a joyous uplifting of her young heart, one that comes in response to knowing that she is still a free bird and likely to remain so. Beyond that, however, Hanabi does not know how to react to the shocking information. Common sense says that she should be distraught. Perhaps she should faint away, or act like the women in the old dramas; when recieving bad news, those ladies always fell to their knees, screaming and crying, rending their fine clothes or even their magnolia white skin. They were genuinely moved by the ill news, which is very strange, given how Hanabi now feels nothing at all.

_It's because I don't know her..._

The thought is a truthful one- Hanabi knows very little about her older sister, has never really given her any serious consideration. They were born five years apart, into a family that has had different expectations for each of them, and often kept separated. Hanabi has no childhood memories of her sister as a loving playmate. Later- when it became clear that Hinata was not succeeding as heir, while Hanabi seemed to be especially gifted- they became rivals. Now each girl strives for the top position in the household, wanting desperately to be acknowledged and loved. In short, they are more acquaintances than real sisters.

"Lady Hanabi? Your father's leaving for the hospital as soon as his meeting is finished. My mom said that I should tell you, in case you want to-" Before Himeno can finish her sentence, her younger cousin is off and running for the house, her little sandaled feet crunching carelessly over the many bright yellow dandelions that are taking advantage of the dead grass. Himeno makes ready to run after the girl- she has been told to keep an eye on her, after all- but accidentally inhales some of the crushed weed's pollen. A frame-shaking sneeze is induced, and by the time her head clears, the speedy Hanabi is already gone.

* * *

Some twenty minutes later, a freshly scrubbed Hanabi exits the great house and meets up with her father just as he reaches the compound's main gate. Stretching out her short legs, she falls into step beside him, and they pass through the guarded portal together. Hiashi does not glance at his child, which means little to a Hyuga, but he does not verbally acknowledge her either. Hanabi has never considered herself overly sensitive, but her only parent's sudden distance is painful to her; she had slipped on a simple powder blue _yukata_ for this outing- hoping to do her father credit- and he does not even notice.

Hanabi purses her pink lips. Just another thing to blame Hinata for.

Dusk approaches and ominous thunderclouds begin to build to the southeast, throwing the wide avenue they are walking down into semi-darkness. The way soon becomes choked with civillians and ninja alike, heading home to their dinners and air conditioning after a long day of work. Those who pass closest to the white-eyed duo murmur polite greetings and, in some cases, condolences. News about Hinata has certainly traveled fast; Hiashi courteously inclines his dark head to each commiseration, and his handsome face remains grave. No one speaks to Hanabi, and the little girl begins to wish she had stayed home.

They round a corner formed by some family's garden wall, stepping out onto a new street. Konoha Hospital is right across from them, the entrance marked by two columns of stone taller than Hanabi, each with a great deal of characters written across them. Hanabi's eyes take them in at a glance, moving on to the building itself. The medical center is one of the village's largest constructions; it runs the length of the street and rises a full three stories. There is no way for Hanabi to tell how many rooms it encompasses but, judging from the many windows that reflect the cloudy sky, it is quite a lot. Her curious white gaze rises to the sign above the entrance-

"What are you standing there for? Hurry up."

Embarrassed to have been caught staring like simpleton, Hanabi scurries to obey her frustrated father. She pushes past a few loitering people and comes to stand next to him before the entrance, safely tucked under the short eaves of the tiled roof. The first of the raindrops begins to fall as Hiashi pulls open the glass door, a blast of cold air-conditioning rushing through the gap and causing the windows to become opaque. Although it is considered ill-mannered for the heir to walk before the clan head, Hanabi darts quickly underneath his outstretched arm and into the well-lit space, fearful lest she make him wait and thereby upset him further.

The inside of the hospital is even more impressive than the outside. A cavernous space stretches before Hanabi- easily large enough to accommodate her entire family- and it is unlike anything she has ever seen. The chilly room is decorated entirely in pastels, pale washes of blue, green, and cream. In her little kimono, the awestruck girl blends right into the color scheme. The overhead lights are long, flickering rows set flush against the ceiling, and they provide the space with a strange illumination the reflects off the tile floor in a thousand different places. Furniture is relatively sparse, consisting of a few tables and groupings of elongated, backless benches-

"Father, why are there so few people here?"

The door behind her bangs shut, and Hanabi does not know if its violence is due to the rising wind outside, or her father's out-of-character carelessness. "Visiting hours are over."

In the center of the great room is a rectangular conglomeration of desks, their dark surface littered with ledgers, clipboards, and pens. Behind them sit two women wearing small robes, writing and chatting easily with one another. Perhaps sensing Hanabi's interested stare, one looks up and gives a fake smile which fades as soon as she recognizes the famous white eyes. With a little bow, the administrative assistant points toward the rear of the building, where two staircases rise up to a second floor landing while a door between them conceals a hallway that leads further into the structure. "I'm afraid she's just come out of surgery, Lord Hyuga. You can find her in ICU."

Hiashi thanks the woman- only Hanabi can tell that he is distracted- and strides toward the closed door, obviously familiar with the route. The girl does not question Hiashi's acquaintance with the way or the reason they are are being allowed to pass after hours, merely struggles to keep up with her harried parent, her small _geta _clattering across the tile floor. Their sound is loud in the relative silence of the room, drawing every pair of eyes her way, and Hanabi feels suddenly self-conscious in her feminine clothes. She had wanted admiration, not a feeling of being overdressed, and the seven year-old vows to stick with her training outfit from now on.

They pass through the swinging black doors without a word, and the change in scenery is almost immediate. Gone are the soothing colors- everything in this wide, deserted hallway is functional and inorganic, monochrome like the Hyuga themselves. The lighting is different as well, fluorescent bulbs that agitate the duo's sensitive eyes. There are doors on both the left and the right sides of the corridor, at regularly spaced intervals, and each is clearly marked with a little sign that contains medical jargon too complicated for Hanabi to puzzle out. Not that she has the time; the girl is nearly sprinting now to keep pace with her father.

The hallway intersects another dead ahead, forming a right-angle junction. Two white-suited men round it easily, carrying a loaded stretcher between them, and begin walking in the clan members' direction. As they get closer, Hanabi can see the form of a teenage boy lying prone upon the fabric conveyance. He looks vaguely familiar- shiny black bowl-cut hair, thick brows and onyx eyes that are dimmed with some sort of pain killer- but the girl cannot place him. As they pass one another, the drugged young man recognizes her father, and he begins to cry. "I am sorry, Lord Hyuga! I wanted to stop him... He had the match won, he did not need to-"

"Hush, Lee. Quit bothering these people." One of the orderlies turns his hooded head and apologizes profusely for the patient's disruptive behavior, and then the group disappears into a nearby room, closing the door upon the teenager's incoherent protests. Unnerved, Hanabi breathes a sigh of relief and looks up toward her father, seeking reassurance and a possible explanation for the strange episode. Hiashi disappoints her in that regard; he stands unmoving, his pearl eyes narrowed at the newly-shut portal. One hand clenches slowly into a fist, and Hanabi realizes with a start that he is angry, probably about something the ugly boy had said.

What is going on here?

* * *

Hinata's private room is located deep inside the hospital, part of a wing that is devoted to the care of critically injured patients. They arrive before the small chamber just as a medical-_ninja _is exiting. The weary doctor straightens at the sight of them, adjusting his square glasses upon his thin nose and lowering his tidy clipboard to stand nearly at attention. Hanabi thinks that the man looks very competent when compared with their family's own obsequious physicians, though she revises her opinion slightly when he begins to speak, glancing nervously at the grave face of her father. "Ah, Lord Hyuga. The secretary paged me and said that you were on your way."

"My daughter?"

"As you have probably been informed, she suffered ventricular fibrillation- basically an inability of the ventricles in the heart to contract and continue pumping blood- due to a _chakra _attack delivered by her Chunin Exam opponent. There is no way to confirm such a diagnosis without an electrocardiograph or eyes like your's; fortunately, her teacher and the paramedics that were stationed there recognized the symptoms. They were able to use a defibrillator and jump her heart only seconds after she became asystolic, and we've used a lidocaine drip to keep things running smoothly since then. I'm confident that she won't have suffered any brain damage..."

Hanabi wanders away from the engrossed men, dazed by their serious conversation. There is a small window that looks into her sister's room, and the heiress steps up to it and peers cautiously in, afraid of what she might see. What meets the young girl's opalescent gaze is a morbid tableau; Hinata lies unconscious in a wheeled bed, the lower half of her white face covered in a plastic mouthpiece that Hanabi assumes is necessary for her to breathe. Numerous multicolored tubes and wires run in jumbles from the older girl's broken body, connecting her to a myriad of machines whose purpose the child cannot even begin to guess at.

Inside the room, a solemn nurse moves forward and- perhaps hoping to spare the little girl the awful sight of an injured relative- pulls a heavy, dark shade across the window. The action leaves Hanabi staring in dismay at her own reflection, so very different in appearance from Hinata's bloodless face. In that one instant, all of the contempt she has previously felt for her distant older sister is dispelled, replaced by pity and another emotion that Hanabi is both unwilling and unable to name. All she can think about is poor, frail Hinata with her mediocre fighting skills; had the other girl's adversary really needed to go so far?

_I'd like to hurt whoever did this to you._

The distressing thought is quick- little more than a violent flash through her darkened mind- and Hanabi is unsure were it comes from. Frowning, she turns away from her mirrored image and returns to her customary place at her father's side, intent on listening once more to the doctor. The physician has moved on in his lecture and is now giving Hinata's prognosis, still using the same complicated terms as before. Though she tries her best to follow the words, Hanabi does not understand most of them, and she is relieved when her father nods decisively and the doctor bows to them both. Finally, this taxing visit is at an end.

The two walk unhurriedly toward the exit- different from where they came in, further proof that Hiashi mysteriously knows his way around the place- and Hanabi finds the pace much more comfortable than her father's earlier possessed hustle. Hoping to find her only parent's mood much improved, the heiress sneaks a glance upwards at his handsome face, and notes with disappointment that his visage is still as stormy as the weather outside. Worried that she might have missed some important part of the exchange with the doctor, Hanabi squares her narrow shoulders and asks in a small voice, "Is Hinata going to die?"

Hiashi's pearlescent eyes do not bother to meet her own inquisitive ones, but Hanabi knows instinctively that she has been noticed and appraised, knows that her father has observed everything about her. The heiress hopes that he does not find anything about her lacking but, while waiting for his answer, she does not dare ask. They round a corner in contemplative silence, stepping into another empty beige corridor that ends with a set of glass double doors. Beyond the heavily fogged windows, lightning flashes, briefly illuminating the night. After the retort of distant thunder, Hiashi finally says, "They do not think so."

There are more words hiding behind those few- Hanabi can sense them through the familial bond that they share- but her father is a very private man, and they are not forthcoming.

Opening one of the foggy doors, the two Hyuga step out onto the hospital's porch just as the summer rainshower comes to an end. Although darkness has fallen, the oppressive humidity remains, making it hard to breathe. Moving down the concrete steps to the sidewalk that leads through the grounds, avoiding the puddles that have accumulated to reflect the hazy light from the streetlamps, it takes only a moment before the duo begins to sweat. The exercise, combined with the vanishing scent of disinfectant and the more natural illumination, serve to loosen Hiashi's tongue. He confesses simply, "It was Neji, you know."

Startled, Hanabi misses a step and stops dead, her right foot splashing into a small pool. Warm rainwater begins soaking slowly into her cotton _tabi, _and still she does not move. Neji is her older cousin, and the teenager is perhaps even more of an enigma than Hinata. The blood of the cadet branch that flows through his veins should make him weaker than either of the heiresses, and yet- He had done this? Nearly killed her sister, who was his childhood friend and higher-ranking clan member, for the sake of an exam match? How could he? How is it that he is not dead for insubordination? Hanabi's brain whirls, struggling to process all of the new information and raw feelings that go with it.

_I'd like to hurt whoever did this to you._

Hiashi turns back to face her in askance, and Hanabi lifts her sopping foot from the puddle. When the ripples of liquid still, coalescing once more into a shadowy mirror, the young girl is once again confronted with her own reflection; here in the darkness, the image does indeed resemble Hinata's wan, agonized face. As Hanabi hurries to catch up with her father, her always fiery will strengthens, and the heiress suddenly has a new goal. One that surpasses her desire to be the next and greatest clan leader, or even to be perfect in the eyes of her family. Her main purpose in life is now to best and perhaps destroy her cousin Neji.

All for her sister whom she barely knows but may love after all.


	4. Introduction: Neji

_Author's notes: This has been done before, and by way better authors than myself. Still, I wanted to give it a try. _

**Introduction**

Neji's first day at Konoha's Ninja Academy does not go at all as planned.

The little boy, long dressed and ready, stomps out of the Hyuga house as soon as it is light outside, and the confused maid whose job it is to walk him to school finds herself running after him. They arrive at the empty academy courtyard more than an hour early, the the woman both irritated and exhausted. _Do I have to wait with him? _She decides against it and goes to hand him his lunch when she realizes she has left it behind. At least she has some pocket change.

"Neji, you're here awful early. Don't you want to run by the market and pick up something for lunch?" Her voice is high pitched and she talks to him like a child.

Although he is only five, Neji is anything but childlike. He has seen too much already, holds the pain of too many wounds close to his heart. "No," he says solemnly, claiming the swing hanging from the sole tree for his own and glaring at the annoying woman with moon-like eyes. He sits upon the playground device, but his sandaled feet remain firmly planted on the dusty ground. "Go away."

The maid hurries off, glad to be dismissed and afraid to disobey the strange little boy.

Watching her go, Neji snorts. One small hand tightens upon the ropes of the swing, turning completely white with the pressure he uses, betraying his negative feelings. As if the maid has anything real to fear. At least she can leave his family's employment whenever she wishes. He is the one who will spend the rest of his life as a slave, or else he will end up-

Like his father. It has been less than a year since Hizashi was killed to protect the main branch of the family. Loneliness is eating away at Neji; he has no one to talk to. Everyone he would have turned to is now the enemy, or has been removed. He hates them all: Grandfather, Uncle, even little Hinata. And he hates his own caste, the cadet branch, for sitting quietly by while their leader was murdered. He even hates himself.

_I should have done something... I should have been _able_ to do something._

The sun rises higher, and above him in the tree birds begin to sing. Their gentle calls soothe the angry something inside of Neji, and he thinks that it is nice to be here, alone. The little boy revels in the fact that, for this one moment at least, he is free. Out in the wide world, his own master. Who knows what he could become out here? He closes his eyes, and attempts to meditate as he has been taught.

An odd rustling reaches his ears, the organs made newly sensitive by the closing of his magic eyes, and he opens those pearls in curiousity. He quickly turns and looks over his shoulder to find that the playground is not as deserted as he previously thought. On the other side of the ancient hardwood is a little girl about his age who must have been there before him, peeking shyly.

She is a small, thin thing. Her clothes are a size too large, baggy shorts and an old, faded t-shirt. The Hyuga, always clean and pressed, has never seen anyone so unkempt. In fact, the neatest thing about her is her brown hair, carefully pulled up and wound into two buns atop her head. She has chocolate eyes in a tan face colored pink with embarrassment at being caught observing him. All in all, she is very different from the pale and monochromed family members that have comprised his world thus far.

Now that she has been seen by the odd swinging prince, the little girl stops nibbling her pink lower lip and comes around the tree, sticking out her hand in a gesture of friendship. "I'm Tenten," she says, her voice slightly accented.

No family name? That is weird. As a member of an esteemed family whose name is known far beyond the borders of Fire Country, Neji knows that a person's most important title is their surname, that of their clan. To not give one shows bad breeding, but the little boy is quickly distracted by another thought, one that takes precedence over the mystery surrounding the girl.

Neji slips off the front of the swing, comes around it, and tries to peer around the tall tree. The girl remains in front of him, holding out her right hand. Neji does not give her his name, and he does not shake her proffered palm. Instead, he says the first thing that comes to mind, the thought that bothered him from earlier. "Did you walk your brother here?"

The girl, Tenten, looks shocked, her dark eyes widening. She drops her hand and stares the boy in confusion. It is then that Neji notices the ankle-high pile of small rocks at her feet and the three-ringed target drawn in the red dirt a few feet away. Seven rocks lay in the center- perfect bullseyes'- plus another three around the edge. It is her homemade version of target practice.

She is training. Why would she do such a thing?

"I don't have a brother," Tenten explains slowly, wondering if this white-eyed boy is mentally handicapped. There are a few children like him in the orphanage she comes from, so she has not quite written him off as a pal yet, but he is just so weird! She patiently elaborates. "I'm here for school. I was so excited that I got here really early. I'm going to be a ninja." She smiles wide, confident in her dream.

She sounds so sure of herself that Neji feels he had better let her down gently. He meets her eyes and tells her, "You can't be a ninja, because you're a girl."

From Neji's point of view this last statement is entirely factual. His younger cousin Hinata, after all, would make a terrible ninja. Watching the brunette's face turn red, he explains, "Girls cook, and clean, and have babies. You should go home. Your mom is probably wondering where you are." It is not Neji's intention to be cruel, just to educate her on her destiny. Fate is not something that can be avoided.

The girl's small hands fist at her sides, and she purses her lips, glaring daggers. Inwardly, she revises her previous opinion. This boy is not slow, he is just a jerk, and he has just lost out on any chance of her friendship. "I can so be a ninja! Haven't you heard of Lady Tsunade?"

No, Neji has not heard of Lady Tsunade. Should he have? Is that something you need to know to attend the academy? Furthermore, he is even more perplexed. Why is this dumb girl getting angry and arguing with him when he is so obviously right? He reiterates. "No, you can't."

Tenten grits her teeth, grinding them together. Her words are even more accented now, something that occurs when she is upset. "Yes, I can."

Neji is hard pressed not to sigh. Why will she not give it up?

"No, you-" Before he can finish, she rears back and punches him in the left eye. The blow is hard enough to hurt, hard enough even to make his head spin. He catches himself on the swing and then quickly lets go, too prideful to show his pain or be caught needing an object for support. He is mad now, furious even, and tempted to physically teach her a lesson. You do not mess with a Hyuga's eyes.

But she is a girl, and boys are not supposed to fight girls. Where does that leave them?

The wide schoolyard begins to fill with youthful students eager for their first day, and the other children begin milling around, perhaps sensing the distress of the first two. Neither Neji nor Tenten notice the crowd. His eye is aching and rapidly swelling shut, and her knuckles are red and bruised. They stand there, just a few feet apart, glaring at one another. Each nurses their respective hurts until the bell rings and the academy doors are thrown open.

As they head to class, Neji decides he does not like Tenten very much.

He is the first and only Hyuga to ever start school with a black eye.


	5. Execution: Neji's mother

_Author's notes: Where is Neji's mother? She's never mentioned, near as I can tell, although I thought there was a woman crying over Hizashi's body. Still, that could be explained. My take on Neji's absent mom, and this story is pretty dark. OCs. _

**Execution **

The pale light of morning breaks through the thin, high-set window of the main branch's common room, turning the floor's square matting a soft golden color. A _futon_ has been placed upon the _tatami_, and a sweating young woman lies sprawled across it, completely naked. As the hazy light creeps over the girl's grossly rounded stomach, she has to ask herself: Is it really only the second hour since these agonizing pains began? Already, Satsu feels as though she has lain here for days. Worse yet, this being her first babe, she has been told in no uncertain terms that she might.

If only the company were not so dull! Satsu glancing at her stoic companion and- seeing no compassion in those white eyes- she allows her mind to drift away from the pain in her body momentarily. Her thoughts take her back to the barbecue restaurant she worked in before marrying and coming to live in the great house of her husband's family. The waitresses there had all been poor country girls like herself, and they were often tired from working ten hour shifts, but after closing they could still giggle and indulge in a bit of innocent fun. There is little enough of that here.

_I wonder what Ami would think of me now? She said not to fall in love with him, that I was stupid. But soon I will be a mother... _Pride fills Satsu, and the young woman takes a deep breath, drawing air and strength into her lungs. She feels her lower body tense once more, and prepares to ride it out. Hopefully, word of her labor has been sent her husband Hizashi, and he will come soon and hold her hand. Then all will be well, and some time from now they shall have a little child all their own. Satsu smiles at the thought of the three of them, the perfect family. Maybe they could even be allowed to have a house all-

_Oh gods, that hurts!_

A new wave of pain hits, this one just slightly stronger than the last. Satsu gasps and grabs at the thin coverlet with her small calloused hands. Griting her teeth, she reminds herself to concentrate, to will the contractions to slow themselves. She is determined; her baby must not be born until Hizashi returns home, for she wants him to witness the birth and be the first person to hold his child. It was because of this baby, this unexpected but very welcome gift, that they were able to overcome the protests of his powerful family and the differences in their social classes and marry at all.

The cramping of her swollen womb eases as quickly as it had begun, and Satsu exhales tremulously into the steadily warming room. Surely she can hang on a little while longer?

"You need to stay calm. The pain is going to get worse."

At the sound of the soft-spoken but steely voice, Satsu turns her brunette head once more to look at the chamber's only other occupant, and a pair of apethetic white eyes meet her own grey ones. Hiroko, her sister-in-law, is kneeling a few feet away, darning a yellowed old baby cap with quick, precise movements. The twenty-six year old former _ninja_ is serving as the midwife for this premature birth, her calm demeanor and practicality making her the perfect choice. However, her inability to mince words is as stiffling to Satsu as the airless room, and she has to wonder what makes the woman qualified for the job. "How do you know?"

Hiroko jerks as the small needle bites into the fleshy part of her thumb. Her thin lips part, perhaps for some sort of revelation, but then the women catch sight Lady Masako entering the room like a perfumed butterfly. Satsu has never cared much for her mother-in-law, because the woman is about as prejudiced toward her peasant status as anyone can get. The only worse treatment she has ever recieved came from Inoichi Yamanaka's wife, who threw her from the family flower shop after her husband promised her a job. That was a long time ago though, and the jealous Yamanaka shrew has no power when compared to Masako.

Satsu gives the elder woman an absentminded little wave from where she is lying spread-eagled on the _futon_, the silken sheets underneath the lower part of her fertile frame protected by some sort of plastic cover. The girl is one more too busy waging war against the course her body is trying to take to do anything more respectful. Masako frowns down at her with an acute expression of disgust, and Satsu hopes it is just because she is a mess, her bobbed hair dishevelled and her damp curls visible between her legs. Privately, however, she doubts that is the case, and she gasps out her question. "Is he coming?"

Hiroko lays the small head covering upon her lap and gives the briefest of coughs, and Satsu realizes that she has not used the proper honorifics, something that there is no excuse for, whether birthing a child or no. Masako's frown deepens, and the soon-to-be grandmother arches one perfect eyebrow, indifferent to the young woman's physical plight. Masako has had five children herself, but she is certain in the back of her very selective mind that she was never this pitiful in either appearance or mannerisms during any one of her labors. Her cultured voice nearlly drips with disdain. "Whom is is that you're speaking of?"

The pain lessens gradually, but the grimace upon Satsu's tan face remains. The pregnant young woman feels frustrated by the unsympathetic Hyuga females, and is in no mood for their mindgames. Even so, she chooses her next words carefully, fearful of offending them and thereby risking herself. There is an unspoken, mutual understanding among the family; Satsu might be might be married to Hizashi, might be bearing the aristocratic woman a grandchild, but is not allowed to call Masako by any maternal title and never will be. She is not of an acceptable pedigree to do so. "Hizahi, My Lady. Please, is he coming?"

Masako laughs at her eager query, most likely in genuine amusement. The sound of her chortling, while beautiful as the rest of her, still comes across as cold to Satsu's ears. The older woman wanders over to a thick, crimson silk cushion and settles herself with an elegance that the girl desperately observing her can only envy. Masako takes her time about it- as the matriarch of the household, she has all the leisure time she needs- arranging her robes just so and calling for tea. Finallly, she turns her dark brown eyes to Satsu and smiles frostily, explaining, "I just sent the message by courier. It will be at least two days until Hizashi gets it."

Over the pressure that is once more beginning to build in her loins, Satsu's stunned mind tries to process what she has just heard. It will take her husband two whole days just to get a message? How fast could he return after recieving it? Just where was Hizashi stationed anyway? The young woman suddenly wishes that she were better educated, knew a little more about the great wide world around her. And she wishes that her baby was not coming two weeks early. Satsu seizes upon a hopeful thought, voicing it to no one in particular. "Is it possible that his mission might be finished? Maybe he is already on his way?"

Hiroko gives a little derisive snort, and picks one fuzzy little sock out of the small wooden chest sitting nearby. She lifts the small garment up and examines it for tears or the most minute holes. Satisfied that the moths have not harrassed it, she places the footie on the floor and reaches for another. Her voice is carefully flat and she does not bother glancing down at the prone form of her sister-in-law. "I doubt Hizashi will be back anytime soon. We are at war, you know, and his scouting skills are much in demand. Even when he gets the message, they may not approve his leave. You're on your own."

Locking her knees together in a vain attempt to stop the child from coming, Satsu thinks that truer words have never been spoken. She is not well liked in this noble house- most of the family think her beneath their level, and the army of servants they employ feel that she is no better than than their own class. She would not even be tolerated here if it were not for her husband being the child of the former clanhead. Oh, how she hopes Hizashi makes it in time! She sighs as the pain eases once again. Two days? Satsu is not at all sure she can hold on that long. She is not sure her child will wait until its father returns.

But she is bound to try.

People have always told Satsu that she is perceptive, but Hiroko must be even more so. Her white eyes narrow and flash as if she knows what the younger woman is thinking. Faster than Satsu can see, her sister-in-law slaps her hard upon her naked thigh, Hiroko's white hand contrasting sharply with Satsu's smooth tan skin. The blow leaves a stinging red welt, but the words that come next hurt the most; Hiroko tells her that if she continues to fight the contractions her baby might die before it is ever born. "Don't be a fool, Girl. The child will be here when Hizashi gets back, you'll see. He would probably even prefer it this way. No mess to look at."

"But-"

The door slides open again, and a a maid enters bearing a tray. She places it upon the _tatami_ next to Masako and retreats. The grande dame takes one of the two delicate china teacups in hand and sips loudly on the chilled liquid, making a show of it. Returning the cup to its matching saucer, she fixes her dark brown eyes upon her thirsty and annoyed daughter-in-law. Her tone is the one she uses for the hired help. "All of my children were born without the assistance of a man. They have other- often less painful and far more important- things to do. Now, stop complaining and be quiet. If my grandchild dies, I promise it will not go well for you."

Satsu knows a threat when she hears one, and while she is not personally afraid of the bullying older woman, she does fear for the relationship with her husband and ther unborn baby's health. After the duo's ominous words, the young woman tries very hard to advance her labor, pushing occasionally and resting otherwise. Female servants come and go all day, opening windows for air, bringing cool water and ice from the deep cellar. One maid even stands nearby and fans them, though the air is mostly for Masako and she sticks her tongue out at Satsu when no one is looking. Nothing seems to help, however. The room remains like an oven.

As the sweat rolls off her heaving body and Hiroko peeks once again between her legs, Satsu begins to regret her decision to give birth here. The hospital, at least, would have been cool and quiet. Of course, such a thing would have been out of the question; Satsu suffers from what would have been termed an irrational fear of abandonment. Too many people have previously left her in her young life. The woman lives with the constant and gripping fear that, should she ever leave the family compound without Hizashi, the Hyuga will order the gates barred behind her, and she will be divorced and disowned.

Glancing feebly, helplessly at the glacial visages of the monochrome clan women surrounding her, Satsu thinks that such a thing is not as impossible as they would tell her.

Some time after noon, Lord Hiashi and his father Hideyoshi come to check up on the latest developments between one of their many scheduled meetings with the village council. Both of the men have a vested interest in this birth; neither the clan physcians nor the wizened astrologers had dared prophesize the child's sex, and the examining of another Hyuga with the Byakugan- even one _in utero_- is an invasion of privacy that is prohibited by family law. No one knows if this babe of Hizashi's might be a male, if it might live where both of his brother's children have so far perished...

Satsu's in-laws do not come into the makeshift birthing chamber, of course. For Lords to do so would be simply unacceptable, especially for the wife of a second son. Instead, the pearl-eyed duo settle for standing behind the _shoji _door and speaking with Masako, thier twin shadows the only evidence of their presence. The spiteful older woman informs them of Satsu's progress- she is almost fully dilated now- in a loud voice, gleefully telling them that she has seen plenty of peasant women drop their babies in the rice fields and then go back to work moments later. Waving a hand in careless dismissal, she says airily, "The girl should manage just fine."

Satsu, pushing hard now, finds that she is too tired to even care.

The blazing July sun circles the room slowly, before disappearing from view altogether, and at dusk Satsu's son is finally born. He is absolutely perfect, a miniture replica of his father. Like down, thin ebony hairs cover his small skull, and he blinks white moon-like eyes before scrunching them closed. His pale skin has turned slightly red from all of the squeezing pressure his little body has suffered. And he is so tiny! Satsu has seen babies before, of course, but this one is different. He absolutely belongs to her, and in true mother fashion all Satsu wants to do is hold him and forget the pain that he caused.

Satsu holds out her eager shaking hands as Hiroko severs the umblical cord with a pair of stainless steel sheers. To the new mother's dismay, her sister-in-law calmly ties off the bleeding stump and hands the newborn to the hovering Masako. With a cry of delight, the grandmother quickly claims the child for her own and rushes from the room, calling for her immediate family to come and see the beautiful little boy. Stunned, Satsu calls weakly after the woman, but her protests are cut off by the slamming of the door. She cannot believe this! They have robbed her of her baby! Her only child-

Hiroko has laid the scissors aside now, and is pressing on Satsu's still heaving belly with grim determination. The former _ninja's_ eyes meet the younger woman's for only the second time that day, and Satsu thinks she sees some old, repressed emotion floating in those colorless depths. Before she can ask about it, her sister-in-law orders her to calm down. "He is her first grandson, you know. She will show him off, dote on him, and then return him to you soon. Then you'll have more time than you could ever want with him, trust me. Now, you're not done yet. We've still got to deliver the afterbirth."

Nodding a weary assent, the sweaty Satsu flops ungainly back upon the _futon_ and lifts her knees once more. While she pushes, feeling something tear itself away from the walls of her womb, the young woman notes an unusual pain in her heavy chest. She has to wonder if it is her denied heart or merely her milk-laden breasts, thier areolas peaked and dark. Common, Masako had called them, and the remembrance brings Satsu's anger back once again. Staring at the bent form of the woman between her legs, she points out that the child is her first son also, and anyway she did all the work. "Doesn't that give me some rights? I'm his mother!"

The years have taught Hiroko that no one should speak of civil liberties while inside the Hyuga compound. She tells the new mother to hush, her opalescent eyes on the scarlet mess that blooms between her sister-in-law's tanned thighs. It is a lot of blood, but nothing that she has not seen before, having been on the battlefield and... The older woman loses the thought as Satsu tries once more to sit up. She has to push the girl back down, conceeding that in this one instance Masako was right; these peasants are down right unladylike in the way they birth. Trying to change the subject, she asks, "What will you name him?"

"Neji," Satsu gasps out, feeling the rush of warm fluid leave her body. With it goes the last of her strength; the exhausted young woman stops fighting against Hiroko's grip and collapses bonelessly upon the sheets, her short hair like a dark fan around her lightly freckled face. Satsu hopes that name will be okay with Hizashi, as she had always intended to ask him. The thought that her husband could not be here with her today is still a painful one, but at least she has given him a perfect little son to love and be proud of, and they will all be together soon. Satsu yawns and tells Hiroko, "That was my father's name."

Hiroko, wiping Satsu's privates down with a warm washcloth, pauses in her task. She arches an eyebrow and gives the younger woman a flat look, perhaps warning her that she has once more overstepped her bounds. Certainly, the Hyuga female does not think to highly of Satsu's choice- it does not fit with the family's sunshine theme- and the rest of the clan will probably agree. As Hiroko drops her eyes and wraps something disgusting in the plastic covering she has just pulled from beneath Satsu's body, the new mother decides that she does not care what their opinion is; Neji is her child, after all, and she will call him what she pleases.

Suddenly, the weight of her work catches up with her, and Satsu is very tired.

* * *

It is just turning midnight when Satsu wakes from a nightmare, gasping loudly into the inky darkness. Her eyes adjust slowly, and it takes her a few frightened moments to recognize that the strange room she is lying in is the same place she gave birth. Relief washes over her, followed by confusion; a distant clock strikes the hour, and the young woman has to focus hard to count the twelve deep bongs. Why is her mind so hazy? There is no noise inside the chamber, not the longed for cry of her baby or even the gentle whirling of an overhead fan, and Satsu realizes with a mixture of elation and lingering trepidation that she is at last alone.

And bleeding again. Satsu can feel the warm liquid trickling down over her bare sex, probably staining the sheets beneath her. The young woman does not panic; she has already been told to expect such a thing, knows that an erratic light flow is possible for the next month or so. But she is desperate to stem the red tide and save the fine bedclothes, and so the new mother attempts to rise, pushing herself up onto her elbows- A sharp jolt rips through Satsu's abused body, causing her to see neon stars in the darkness. Her head whirls, and she cries out with the pain, but her throat is so dry that no sound is made.

A faint light appears through the _shoji_ panels on the other side of the room. It grows steadily brighter, and Satsu's frail hopes grow with it. Then rice paper door glides silently open, and Lord Hideyoshi steps in without preamble, carrying a small brass candleholder in one heavy hand. For a few agonizing heartbeats, he regards Satsu by the taper's incandescence, taking in her prone, bleeding body and the milk leaking from her uncovered breasts. The young woman tries to cover herself with her hands, feeling a sinking in her stomach. This man has never liked her, would never come to associate with her unless he had some evil news to impart.

Something is off, horribly wrong- perhaps Neji is dead. Or Hizashi. Satsu does not know which would be more unbearable, and cannot bring herself to ask.

In what seems like slow motion, Hideyoshi turns and shuts the door behind him, sealing them together in the shadowy room. Cold white eyes find Satsu's wide grey ones as he crosses the floor noislessly and without haste, coming to a stop next to her frozen form. Satsu watches with fear as he sets the candlehold down and kneels on the _tatami_ next to her _futon_, his stout body less than a foot away from her own. What is this man planning? A memory surfaces of a time long ago, when she would walk quickly down the road at night for fear of being raped. That is not Satsu's life now, but looking at her predatory father-in-law, she is reminded of it.

The new mother gets the shock of her life when the Lord bows to her, dropping his head so low that his long black hair brushes against the feverish skin of her arm. Satsu recoils weakly from the contact, but Hideyoshi does not notice and he rises a moment later, leaning back and staring down his nose at her. His tone is even, but the confused woman struggles to follow his words. "Please forgive me for what I must do. It is your own fault really; you seduced my son and trapped him into marriage. You ruined the alliance we had planned. You've caused disorder in the family, disturbed its harmony. This is not to be tolerated."

Face stern, Hideyoshi reaches over and snuffs out the candle, throwing the room back into darkness. All Satsu can see are his hard pale eyes, glinting with determination. She feels the man's strong hands reach over her and grab the pillow resting there, feels him tug it away. As her brunette head lolls back onto the covers, Satsu's befuddled mind finally realizes what it is he intends. The baby born- a strong new member of the family, another means by which to control her husband- she is no longer needed. How easy it will be to say, once her body has been cremated, that she died from a common illness after a difficult childbirth.

Hizashi will never know the truth.

Satsu's fear becomes full-blown terror. She writhes upon the futon, crinkling the sheets, trying to force her aching muscles to work and get her away from the man who leans slowly over her, the pillow held between his hands. The efforts are futile, and the young woman gives up after a short time, her body exhausted. Frustrated tears spring to her eyes; she is physically powerless to stop him from smothering her, and her throat is so raw that she cannot even scream, privately doubts that anyone would save her if she did. She has been manipulated and betrayed by them all, and now she will never have the chance to present her husband with his child.

With that thought comes an anger like she has never known before. The rage drives away all fear and doubt, allows Satsu to transcend the constraints that have bound her previously. The young woman glares up at the executioner that is her father-in-law, her eyes still wet and her pretty face contorted. She defends herself in the only way that she can, summoning condemning words in a harsh, croaking voice. "Everything you've said is a lie. I haven't done anything, except love your son more than you ever did. What you don't like is that Hizashi would put me or Neji before the clan-"

"Hizashi is not that strong, he never has been. He will continue to live as we tell him."

Satsu opens her mouth once more to deny Hideyoshi's concise whisper, to curse the murderer and his malevolent, barbarous family. The flimsy pillow comes cruelly down across her face, covering it completely. Hot and scratchy, it cuts off all air and any further speech. Too weak to struggle further, the young woman's body merely spasms, a natural and involuntary reflex that does her no good- she cannot escape this fate. A blackness darker than that in the room gathers at the edge of her vision and Satsu has no choice but to surrender to it. She dies with one final, tragic thought:

_Neji. I never got to hold him._


	6. Fatherhood: Neji

_Author's notes: Originally this was going to be a funny stand alone, but I had a hard time with it, so in the end I placed it here. One of the fewer funny stories _Hyuga _will have. Also, I had no idea what to name their child. Sorry._

**Fatherhood**

_She is completely surrounded. The enemy numbers more than he can count, and his mother is in the center, helpless and being menaced by knives. "Run away, Shinji," she cries. "Save yourself!" For a moment, he falters, scared. Those weapons do look awfully sharp. But then courage floods back, and it does not matter anymore. She is the most important person in his world, its tiny center, and he will save her. So he pulls the huge scroll from his back and activates his greatest weapon. _

_"Byakugan."_

* * *

Shinji was missing.

The little boy had been there, slumbering quietly on the lawn in the warm spring sunshine just a second ago. Neji himself had checked on him, made sure his white eyes were indeed closed in slumber and not just the pretend naps he had been trying to take lately. Why a toddler would fake a siesta was beyond him, but Tenten claimed that it had something to do with the "terrible twos" and said they should be firm, so Neji had checked. And double checked. Then, when he was absolutely sure the baby was sleeping soundly, he had gone off for his morning meditation under a blooming cherry tree roughly thirty feet away.

It never entered Neji's keen mind that he himself might fall asleep.

He had been out for only a minute, as best he could tell, but when he woke the little boy was gone, the green grass where he had been resting not even flattened. It was a simple, honest mistake, one that any tired parent could make. Certainly it had happened before, to other people. But none of that mattered, because now Shinji was missing, and if Neji did not find the baby soon, nothing would stop an irate Tenten from killing him when she came home.

Neji was by nature a rational person, never one to panic, but the thought of telling his recently returned to active duty wife that something had happened to their only child left him close to it. Had he not been the one to assure her that she could go back to work without fear? That, as a jonin, he was perfectly capable of handling a small child? One of his own flesh and blood?

_How the hell did my own father accomplish this feat? _

It is a question that has been bothering the Hyuga for sometime, but he does not have the luxury of dwelling upon it. His son is missing.

"Shinji, where are you?" Neji calls in a voice far too quiet for a child to hear, glancing around quickly and trying not to be too obvious about it. The amazingly quick and brutal family grapevine, should it catch hold of his current predicament, would be every bit as telling as if someone held a bullhorn to Tenten's ears. A new thought enters Neji's already cluttered mind: Gods, when did he become afraid of Tenten?

_Probably when she was pregnant..._

"Shinji?"

There is no answer. The baby is nowhere in normal sight.

Quickly activating his Byakugan, straining his pearl eyes to their most detailed focus, Neji turns a full circle out on the lawn. As he does so, he glances slowly at the house and surrounding grounds, hoping that Shinji has not wandered into the main branch areas where special wards prevent the family's magic eyes from seeing what goes on there.

Finally, after what must be the longest minute of his life, Neji sees a small and distinctive chakra pattern that could belong to his son. It appears to be coming from the cadet branch's dojo. Neji watches for another few seconds, noting with relief that it is alone and therefore safe. It is also stationary, which means he should easily be able to catch him. Thank goodness Fate has not screwed him yet again.

Neji shuts off his bloodline trait and heads for the house, practically flying across the yard and ascending the old steps with ease. The nightingale floor remains silent as the well practiced genius crosses it and comes to the door of the dojo. The room is usually empty this time of day, but inside he can hear a child's hight pitched giggle and he breaths a thankful sigh. Shinji is safe and Tenten will not be castrating him anytime soon. Quietly, he slides open the shoji door and peeks in.

His small son is in the center of the room, running and twirling in circles, pale eyes narrowed in his baby face. Apparently it is his version of the still undeveloped Byakugan. Shinji pulls a craggy rock from one of his deep pockets and hurls it a foot or so, a make believe shuriken. He laughs when it thuds onto the floor, a happy sound like Tenten makes, then slips into a passable imitation of his father's Gentle Fist fighting stance.

Parental pride wells up inside Neji, and he finds himself wishing desperately that someone else were around to see. Where is his nosy family when they are truly needed? It is only too obvious Shinji will be one day be a great shinobi. Maybe, if they begin training now, his son can take the position of Hokage away from Naruto in about ten years. The sight of his loudmouthed friend beaten by a child would be a bandage for Neji's tormented soul.

"Ha!" Shinji cries loudly, drawing his father from his absorbing daydream. The little boy begins to strike out at his numerous imaginary opponents, his tiny but quite speedy movements jerky due to still developing motor skils. And all the while he yells out his technique in true ninja form. "Three pa'ms, ten pa'ms! Umm…seven pa'ms!" Neji's ego deflates a little at that. They need to work more on counting.

And for Heaven's sake, you do not flick you foes with your forefinger unless you are Lady Tsunade!

It quickly becomes clear that Shinji's incredible Hyuga-style palming attack has not taken out all of his enemies, because the child now hurls himself into the battle with a word that should not be part of his limited vocabulary and a kick to a training dummy in the corner that nearly overbalances him. Neji winces as the tiny foot connects with the dummy's straw groin. That is not honorable combat! What is Tenten teaching their child?

Shinji is not finished yet, and Neji has to admit that he is impressed by the boy's physical endurance. The tot grabs something off of the polished floorboards and proceeds to spin in place, the object held high. Neji peers into the dimly lit room and feels an embarrassed heat flood his normally cool and pale cheeks. His son is attempting Rising Twin Dragons, his mother's favorite technique, and he is doing it with a roll of toilet paper as his scroll. Toilet paper!

Never mind his previously satisfied feelings, Neji is suddenly very that glad no one is here to see this. He can just imagine Uzumaki's loud teasing, Uchiha's conceited smirk, Inuzuka's barking laughter, and Lee's… Well, Lee would probably cry tears of joy or something. Neji's whirling mind stops as, in front of him, the make-believe scroll wraps around Shinji's chubby legs. The baby goes down face first. Ouch.

Neji resists the strong and instinctive urge to run and scoop the child up. Tenten says that doing so is bad, that it spoils them and just makes a difficult situation worse, but he notices she never takes her own advice. The hypocrite. Still, Neji is a man and a Hyuga, and as such he is expected to have some form of discipline, so he stays where he is.

But that does not mean he has to stay silent.

"Shinji?" he asks quietly, not wanting to startle the little boy. If he frightens him, the kid could start crying, and that is something Neji hates even more than toddler Gentle Fist parodies.

After a long moment in which Neji would actually swear that his heart stopped is beating, the child begins to move. Shinji pulls himself to his knees and then climbs slowly to his feet and turns to face his father, amazingly unhurt. He smiles like Tenten, a big grin from ear to ear- after all, he defeated his many evil enemies and saved his mother- and strikes Good Gai pose number five.

Neji does not know what to say, does not know how to respond to so disturbing a scene. Surely the fruit of his loins is not giving him a thumbs up whilst standing upon tiptoe like a ballerina? Rendered speechless, Neji nods politely and backs out of the doorway. He slides the door shut behind him and tries every breathing method he knows to calm his racing heart. Soon Tenten will be home, and she can deal with this.

Lee and Gai are never going to baby-sit again.


	7. Uncertainty: Grandfather Hyuga

_Author's notes: I'm not even sure why I wrote this. It's a sort of introspective drabble from the viewpoint of Hiashi's father (I always imagine him to be the old Hyuga who argues in favor of Hizashi taking his brother's place)._

**Uncertainty**

At seventy-three, Lord Hideyoshi Hyuga is not the oldest member of Konoha's preeminent _ninja_ clan- that honor belongs to a rather decrepit aunt- but he is definitely feeling his age.

He suffers from a swelling of the limbs in very hot weather and aches whenever the season turns cold or rainy. His once lustrous ebony hair is thinning and greying, his yellow teeth rotting away, and his frail body produces terribly little _chakra_ now. Gone forever are his _shinobi_ abilities, his Gentle Fist _taijutsu _and Rotation, of which he was once a master, just as he reigned over the family. His previously clear eyes are now milky with cataracts and nearly sightless; he is too proud to wear the thick-rimmed glasses prescribed for him and must now rely on what is left of his Byakugan to read anything at all.

Those concerns are only the beginning of a long list of ever-increasing health problems, but the have all been trivialized in Hideyoshi's mind. Certainly, as a long-time member of the village's senior council and the former head of the clan, he is well looked after and given access to the best medical care available. The semi-retired lord even has his own team of doctors- a toadying group of relations that he privately considers nincompoops- and the whole of the massive family is like an army of servants waiting for the opportunity to do his bidding. No, wavering health is not the source of Hideyoshi's primary, all-consuming anxiety.

Death is.

Hideyoshi can feel it lurking nearby, can sense cold hands creeping toward his blackened soul. Nothing keeps the chilling sensation at bay now, neither the ancient prayers that he has never believed in nor the hard-hearted practicality that is considered his speciality. Death is now his most constant companion, a lingering pestilence for which there is no remedy. The old man lives every day in its constant shadow, and when darkness falls and it is time for sleep he must ask himself if he will rise again come the morning. Hideyoshi knows that some day- likely very soon now- he will not.

But the lord is not afraid of death. In fact, he has lately decided that he would welcome the peace and quiet of that gloomy abyss- it would certainly be restful, after managing more than two hundred people for so many years! Furthermore, Hideyoshi has no fear of a great and final judgment- of an eternal hell- because in his own still razor-sharp mind he has never committed a sin. No matter that some outside of the hermit family believe him guilty of crimes against humanity, or that there are those within who both hate and fear him. Let them, for Hideyoshi did what he had to do and there is an end of it.

_Fools, all of them. They can never know what it takes..._

What does bother Hideyoshi, what keeps him awake on sizzling summer nights like this one, is the state of the esteemed clan at present and what will become of it after he is gone.

His eldest son Hiashi is the current leader, and has been for more than twenty-five years. Hiashi has always put up a strong front, a facade, but the man has a nagging conscience and sees every issue in shades of grey. Decisions often prove hard for him to make, and Hideyoshi knows Hiashi would have failed long ago were it not for his guidance and support. Who, after all, came up with the idea to sacrifice Hizashi in his place? And who implemented it, felt the warm blood of a long-lost son well up between his fingers? What will happen when he is dead? Will troubled Hiashi find the strength to do what he must?

Hideyoshi kicks the _futon _cover down around his fat ankles, seeking some relief inside the sweltering bedroom. If only he could turn his overzealous brain off, forget the past and present and possible futures and get to sleep! He tries to slow his breathing, to hold the gulps of air inside his wheezing lungs for a count of ten. His age is against him though; it does not work, merely sets off a quiet coughing fit that neither wakes his bed mate nor brings his valet running into the chamber to assist him. When he finally catches his breath, an indignant Hideyoshi frowns into the darkness. Help just isn't what it used to be.

_Hiashi must find a way to dominate these indolent and foolish people, and I'm not sure he can..._

Perhaps even more worrisome is the fact that under Hiashi's leadership the lines between the family branches have begun to blur. Children are being sealed at later ages, and the clan hierarchy is not as strictly enforced as it once was. Rumor even has it that Hiashi had years ago taught his nephew Neji the main household's most sacred and secret techniques, that the young man had soaked them up and even improved upon them. The very thought is both ludicrous and disgusting. Hideyoshi cannot understand why his son would do away with the time-tested traditions that have sustained the clan for one hundred generations.

Hideyoshi reaches for the wooden tray left on the floor near his _futon_. On it stands a glass of now tepid water and two tiny pink pills that, if swallowed, are supposed to assist him in falling asleep. He grabs hold of the cup- studiously ignoring the medicine- and lifts it to his thin, cracked lips to drink. The small nightlight plugged into the wall behind his head allows him to view his reflection in the glassware; seen through his failing eyes, the mirrored image could be mistaken for that of any of his sons, but here in the dead of night Hideyoshi believes he sees Hizashi, and he wonders if that missing brother is the core of Hiashi's problems.

_Does he grieve for Hizashi still? Is that what teaching Neji was about? Easing his conscience?_ _No good can come of it._

Hideyoshi drinks deep, feeling the water slide down his parched throat and ease the itch there. After a few more sips, he sets the cup back down upon the tray with arthritic hands that tremble slightly. The little pills beckon to him, promising an end to this restless night, but he leans back determinedly and crosses his arms over his barrel chest. His inability to sleep is not some simple case of insomnia, but the unfortunate side effect of a man who always has too much to think about. As such, he steadfastly refuses to take the superfluous medications his physician recommends, and tries to meditate instead.

He has barely closed his eyes before the biggest predicament of all jumps into the forefront of his mind: the important matter of succession. For any dynasty to be safely assured, there must always be an heir, someone available to take up the position of leader and breed others. A strong legatee is the most necessary thing for the clan, but who will follow after Hiashi? The main branch has no sons, just two unimpressive young women. Hideyoshi is not afraid of female leadership, for his own ruthless mother was the clan head before him, but he truly does not believe that either girl will prove herself adept at the position.

Hinata is the inheritor by right of birth, the only entitlement the family has respected since the ancient curse seal came to be, but she is weak by Hyuga standards and far too timid to take charge of her increasingly unruly relatives. Even the recent growth she has attained, both physically and mentally, still leave her far from capable. Granted, the loud-mouthed Hokage-in-training seems to have taken a romantic interest in her- there are rumors of a hastily arranged wedding swirling around the family grapevine- but in Hideyoshi's eyes such a relationship means less than nothing. The clan will never accept being run by an outsider.

_Hiashi's child should have had the power to become Hokage, not be bedded by one like some tawdry slut..._

The gentle shifting of the naked young woman at his side brings him back to the present. Looking down at her sleeping form and noting the strange resemblance the nubile girl holds to his wife Masako in her youth, Hideyoshi feels none of his earlier desire, simply a festering annoyance with both her and her gender. Here is a young woman who should be getting on with her life, doing something constructive- he briefly entertains the notion of waking her, telling her to turn on the ceiling fan and get the hell out- and yet she is sleeping in an old man's bed, hoping to fuck her way to the forefront of the family. Gods, are all women whores?

_Hanabi wasn't. At least, I didn't think so. Not until..._

The thought of his younger granddaughter Hanabi is sobering. Although the girl has entered her teenage years and is no longer considered the heir apparent, she remains unmarked by the curse seal. Why is that? Is her father too lenient and sentimental to do the job, or is she being saved as a reserve? The youthful girl is certainly strong enough to rule, but she often proves too willful and selfish to be trusted with the great responsibility of the family and the burden of their welfare. Worse, she has been so dishonored by recent events that- should she ever return to the compound- Hideyoshi will be unable to bear looking at her.

_Ruined. She would have been our masterpiece if Hiashi had listened, but now she is completely ruined..._

With a sigh that rattles in his lungs, the old man rolls gingerly over, facing away from his soundly slumbering bed mate; his damnable pride had insisted he take the more dominant position in their earlier sexual escapade, and now his back is suffering from his folly. Staring blindly out into the darkened room, struggling to ignore the twinge of pain in his atrophied muscles, the lord allows his mind to roam over the extensive family genealogy, following paths that he has wandered down many times before this night. No new information presents itself, but the disappointed Hideyoshi whispers his question anyway: "Who does that leave?"

No one is acceptable. After the girls, Neji is the closest relative, since his father Hizashi was Hiashi's twin. You cannot find a blood tie closer than that, but he is a branch member and an aberration as well. Surely no member of the cadet bracket should be so strong! Hideyoshi regards him more as an abomination than grandson, and he would rather see the young man dead than let him rule. Of course, there are other grandchildren, multitudes of them, but like Neji they are all branded and the day one is appointed head is the day the Hyuga way of life dies. The end of the line, the fall of the most noble house Konoha has ever seen. Perhaps the greatest clan within the Land of Fire itself.

And that- even more so than his own impending death- is Hideyoshi's real anxiety. He has at most a few more years, and then it is Hiashi's turn to rule unaccompanied. And after that?

Uncertainty.


	8. Internment: Neji

_Author's notes: This story has gotten a lot of hits, but no reviews as yet. I don't plan to quit writing this, but could someone please give me a little feedback. What works, what doesn't? Are the original characters okay? Please let me know. That said, this one could be considered a tearjerker._

**Internment **

It has been three long days since the Hyuga compound went into lockdown. All of the gates are barred and policed by village _shinobi _who have been specially selected for the task, and the many windows of the house are closed against both the wintry weather and prying eyes. No one- with the exception of the Hokage and one or two of his chosen assistants- comes and no one leaves. Even the servants have been detained. All of the regular work is suspended; there is no physical training, no gardening, no loitering around the cold grounds. The only thing still functioning are the kitchens, churning out a watered-down rice porridge that the family eats in their respective rooms.

The great house is eerily quiet, as though it is full of ghosts.

No one will tell the young Neji anything, annoying when he has so many questions: Why can he not leave his room? Why is he not allowed to play with Hinata? Why was the grand New Year's festival canceled? The little boy climbs upon his bed and pushes hard against the heavy wooden shutter of his window. It opens with a creak, and he holds it aloft with one shaky arm, peering cautiously out of the small opening. He and Hinata were supposed to go see the birds in the aviary today. He was going to show her his favorite, the hawk with the golden eyes. And if she got scared- which she probably would- he would hold her hand. Maybe she would like the colorful peacock.

The squeak of the ancient floorboards in the hallway comes to his ears and Neji quickly lets the shutter fall closed, voiding the damp and frosty view and nearly smashing his little fingers in the process. Tumbling down onto the sagging mattress of his bed, the boy curls himself into the tangled grey blankets there, pretending at a much more innocent pastime. He does not want to be caught with the window open, knows instinctively that disobeying an order would be very bad, that he would get in big trouble. The _shoji _door rattles and his father Hizashi enters, bearing their warm dinner on a small tray. Neji is disturbed to see that it is the very same thing they ate for lunch.

Is he being punished?

Solemn-faced Hizashi helps his son to slide off the rumpled bed and ignores the lingering chill in the air that hints at some mischief. They sit down on the floor to eat, because it is easier to wipe up any spilled food from the stained timbers than the clean but faded white bedsheets, and he carefully hands the child the smaller of the two bowls. A dismayed Neji plays with his porridge, pushing it round and round in the bowl and watching with large eyes the shifting patterns made by the rising steam. Finally, the boy can take the silence no longer, and the question he had been struggling with earlier rises unbidden: "Father, why am I locked up?"

Hizashi places his chopsticks across the top of his bowl, returns the items to the tray, and swallows his bland mouthful without tasting it. Although he is long accustomed to eating under difficult circumstances- a _ninja_ must take whatever nourishment they can get, no matter what their emotions- he has suddenly lost what little appetite he had. As he turns his opalescent gaze toward his son, his only child, he feels the warm tears begin to prickle threateningly at the corners of his eyes. As a man and a _shinobi_, he stubbornly forces them back. "It's not just you, Neji. Everyone has to stay in their rooms because the main family ordered it."

Neji does not really know what to think of that statement. At four-and-a-half years of age, he has had very little experience dealing with decrees coming down from the main branch of the family; someone- Hizashi, Grandmother Masako, Aunt Hiroko, Haruka- has always protected him from such trials. Up until very recently, when his forehead was marked with the curse seal and his uncle Hiashi struck down his father inside the main branch _dojo_, he was even unaware that the one caste had power over the other. He turns the thought over and over inside his head, examining it, but it does not make sense. Why is the whole clan in timeout? What did they do?

Hizashi can tell by the narrowing of his son's pearl eyes that the child is confused, and he understands that feeling. The past week- beginning with Lady Hinata's third birthday and Neji's branding- has been a horrible blur, and even _he _is no longer sure exactly what is going on. When you consider the grave task that he has volunteered for, that ignorance is surely the worst crime. Still, he harbors no grudge against his brother in this matter, and he tries to frame the answer to his child's question in a manner that Neji can comprehend. "The main branch is investigating things because someone, a bad _ninja_from the Land of Lightning, tried to kidnap Lady Hinata."

The idea makes absolutely no sense to Neji, as he is too inexperienced to understand the political ramifications that come with such an event. The child frowns, thinking it over carefully; why would anyone want to take his cousin Hinata? Certainly she is the heir to their noble family, and cute little girl, but- "She's just a baby," he tells his father, the tone of his little pipes sounding almost condescending. Underneath that haughty announcement, in reality, he is frightened and a little disgusted that someone would stoop to stealing a child. Although he is just a year older, Neji considers himself infinitely more grown up. A better target, perhaps.

A scary new thought races through Neji's head: maybe that is why he and all his relatives are all locked up? So bad _ninja_ do not get them? He never should have opened the window!

Hizashi sees the trepidation that flashes across Neji's still-rounded face, notes both the nervous gulp and way the boy glances guiltily back toward the casement. The jonin heaves a quiet sigh, imagining the various outlandish conclusions the child must have come to. His son is exceedingly smart and talented- a genius, some of their fellow branch members already whisper- but Hizashi had known intuitively that Neji would not understand this precarious situation. His still-developing mind cannot properly connect Hinata's near-abduction with their current state of imprisonment. The chasm is too great to bridge, but it is too late to turn back now.

Hizashi decides to finish the troubling account, to attempt an easier and less frightening explanation for his struggling child, but he is unsure of exactly how to proceed. How much should he tell the boy? The whole ugly truth, including the many private meetings that have been held since the incident? Thinking over those whispered discussions and the role he has chosen to play, Hizashi's determination fails him. The man settles for everything up to that first crafty suggestion from his father, the one that had cut to the core of all his hatred and insecurities. The one that had forced him to reexamine himself and his priorities.

Keeping his face thoroughly blank, and thus concealing his worried thoughts from the curious child, Hizashi explains the kidnapping once again. This time he expounds upon the event."Do you remember three nights ago, when I woke you up and I left you with your aunt? That was when they discovered that Lady Hinata had been taken- she has no curse seal like you, and so she is vulnerable to those who wish to steal the secrets of the Byakugan. Lord Hiashi rescued her and killed the intruder, but it turns out that he was one of the leaders of the Village Hidden in the Clouds. Now the Cloud _ninja_ are angry, and they are demanding your uncle's death and his corpse."

"What's does that word mean? Cor-"

"A corpse is a body that has no life in it."

Although Neji has been using the Byakugan for some time now, as well as practicing his _taijutsu_, he does not yet understand the practical applications of such knowledge. The boy has no concept of the war that had been occuring since before his birth, does not know why others would covet the bloodline trait. As for wanting his uncle's dead body, he thinks that is stupid, the dumbest thing he has ever heard in his short life. Why should Hiashi die when he was just protecting Hinata? Isn't that what parents are supposed to do? Surely, if something bad ever happened, his father would protect him? Although, if it would cost Hizashi's life, Neji hopes that it will never come to that.

The child's inquisitive mind makes the next leap easily, and he raises eyes like twin moons to his father's wan, chiseled features. "What will happen to Uncle Hiashi?"

Hizashi reaches out and pulls his son carefully into his lap, holding him against the dark green flak jacket that he had dressed in out of long habit. Hugging the child close, the father notes with a bittersweet sadness that he is almost too large to rest there comfortably. The boy is growing again, slowly shedding his baby fat, and Hizashi looks him over slowly. He cannot help but feel the deepest love and parental pride in the warm and healthy little body that he has created. Neji had been conceived by accident, and Hizashi- having suffered his own difficult childhood- was unsure that he wanted to be a father, but now he would not trade him for anything in the world. Except-

Right now, he wishes that Satsu were still alive, to help the child through whatever is to come. At least he has Lord Hiashi's- no, his _brother's_- word that the boy will be well provided for.

Unaware of the depressing turn his parent's thoughts have taken, Neji melts into the rare embrace- within the clan, displays of intimacy are usually frowned upon- and leans his ebony head over his father's chest, his long hair tangling into the pocket closures. The boy listens to the slow and steady rhythm, slightly muffled by the jonin uniform. His own heart beats at a much faster, more frenzied pace, and he always worries with a child's misplaced fear that perhaps Hizashi's life-giving organ will cease its lazy pumping-thumping altogether. His father's voice rumbles comfortingly against the little shell of his ear, making him forget the troubling thought. "He'll be fine, son. Everything will be fine."

They sit like that for a long while, unaware of the passing of time. The closed shutter cuts off any light from outside, and the lone incandescent bulb set into the ceiling provides no clues as to the hour. Neji jerks as something warm and wet lands abruptly on his scalp. He tips his head back as far as it will go, and is shocked to find his father crying silently. He has never seen such a thing before, and it scares him, far more than the idea of bad _shinobi_ coming to get them all. Remembering the curse seal that was cruelly activated on his father a few days ago- the same green mark is now branded into his own skin, hidden beneath linen bandages- he asks, "Does it hurt?"

Seeing the fear in his son's pearlescsent eyes, Hizashi quickly wipes the betraying salty droplets away, flings them from his fingers and blinks rapidly. He hates for the child to view him in this manner, does not like to see the kid terrified and glancing nervously up at him. And he certainly does not want Neji's last memories of him to be like this, all terror and tears. The jonin takes a deep breath and squeezes the little boy once again, sorry that he cannot stay here and hold him forever but ready to fib and perhaps spare him some pain. "No, my head is fine. I just had something in my eye. I'm sorry to have worried you."

"It's okay," Neji whispers, his small voice made even more tentative by the strange feeling inside his stomach and the nagging suspicion at the back of his mind. Being lied to is something new to the young boy, a novel and unnerving experience. In the years to come he will grow very used to half-truths and falsehoods, will learn to see through them without even activating the Byakugan. As it is now, he gazes up at his only parent, sensing with a child's surprisingly powerful insight that something amiss. Hoping to be of some comfort, Neji returns the hug, and his thin arms come nowhere near to fully encircling Hizashi's chest.

The well-meant gesture is anything but soothing, for the embrace nearly undoes his hesitant father. Hizashi cannot take it, cannot continue pretending that their whole world is fine for much longer. Tonight he will die, will willingly orphan his only son, and leave him to an undetermined fate. Not for the first time, the jonin asks himself what sort of man he is: will he be remembered as the sacrificial son, the most loving and devoted brother? The worst parent, the one who abandoned his child for reasons both selfish and selfless? One thing is for sure- if Neji continues to cling to him, all of his resolve will disappear. "It's time for bed, Neji."

Neji sighs in disappointment as his father stands up and lifts him into the captain-style bed. Petulant, he decides not to lay down, but the lumpy mattress, his developing motor skills, and gravity all conspire against him. The child wobbles and falls, face smacking into his feather pillow. As his father quickly pulls off his dirty little socks and tosses them without looking into the wicker hamper, Neji rolls over and crosses his arms, frowning. Locked away for three long days, he has already napped plenty. Sleep is the last thing he wants, and his hands fist into the long, navy sleeves of Hizashi's shirt in protest. "When can we go outside again? I want to show you my _jutsu_."

Hizashi gently disentangles his son's clinging hands from his clothing, places them flat upon the dark blue sash wrapped round the kid's plump belly. He pulls the thick woolen coverlet up under Neji's chin, tucks the blankets tightly around him- a grey straight-jacket that covers all but the tiny monochrome face- in an effort to preserve the little boy's body heat. Here in the rooms of the cadet branch, there is no such thing as centralized climate control, but the every chamber has a ceiling fan and a small space heater. Hizashi will turn the contraption to full power on his way out, but in the meantime- "Are you warm enough?"

Neji nods a distracted affirmative, his mind elsewhere. His father still has not answered his earlier question, the one regarding their obligatory captivity, and he finds the man's silence upsetting. The child tries once more to sit up, but Hizashi puts one strong hand on the kid's thin shoulder and pushes him easily back to the bed. That same hand comes up to brush some of his shorter strands of hair away from his face; as it travels across the boy's wrapped forehead, the jonin can feel the a sluggish stirring of power beneath the beige bandages, one of the side effects of a new seal. He quickly pulls his hand away, saddened and disgusted.

"I was promised that you could go outside tomorrow afternoon. It should be sunny, but make sure that you wear your coat anyway, because it will still be cold. Now, sleep tight."

Neji yawns, feeling the mind-diverting tingling sensation on his smooth brow fade away. The snug blankets around him set his ill-used muscles to warming, and his earlier lethargic feeling begins to return. The little boy concedes that he is perhaps just a little tired, after all. Moreover, with the welcome promise of the freedom and sunlight tomorrow, he is ready to dream away the night quickly. But something continues to plague him; his father usually sits at the end of the bed until he is fast asleep, but he is now standing close to the door, fiddling with the knobs on the machine that Neji has been told he must never touch. "Are you leaving?"

Hizashi merely nods, watching the coils of the heater before him glow red hot with a worrisome intensity. He is determined not to turn around, to see the naked disappointment upon the innocent little face of his only child, but that building sense of fear and guilt manage to overwhelm him once more. The father glances quickly back at the faithful child, all the while asking himself how he shall find the will abandon him. His throat begins to burn, and he feels his sensitive eyes begin to itch once again. The jonin tries to shake the feeling off. "I have a meeting with the main family in a few minutes. Good night, Neji. I love you, don't ever forget that."

In the seconds before the before the light is switched off, Neji thinks he sees the suspicious tears again. Blinking away the neon spots that have appeared before his eyes, he glances back to his father, but the man has turned away and is opening the _shoji _door. The child opens his mouth to reply, to return his parent's heartfelt endearment, but Hizashi is already gone. The sight of the closed portal sends him into a panic; the little boy sits up in the darkness, holding the heavy blanket to his chest as if it is some sort of protective armor. He raises his small voice, hoping for just one more second with his strangely behaving sire. "Father?"

There is no answer, but a shadow pulls away from the rice paper screen and disappears quickly down the hall. Feeling frightened and betrayed, Neji rests his ebony head back upon his big pillow and after a time falls into a fitful sleep. Despite his distressed nature, the child never even suspects that this interlude has been the last time he will ever spend with his father.

When Neji wakes in the morning, the sun has broken from behind the thinning grey clouds- true to Hizashi's word- and the great house is prepared for a lavish funeral, one without a body.


	9. Severance: Cousin Haruka

_Author's notes: Haruka will be one of my more commonly used OCs, so any feedback on her will be appreciated. Thanks go out to Cyberwolf for the review._

**Severance**

Late January twilight changes the wintry world into various shades of grey and purple, a depressing palette that seems well suited to the mood of the teenage girl hurrying across the large courtyard. Not bothering with the brick sidewalk, Haruka takes the more direct route across the lawn, her booted feet crunching over the many fallen leaves the blustery day has left scattered about. Stepping onto the wide porch, hearing the nightingale floor sing out, she shivers and exhales nervously. Her breath is a white puff upon the chill air as she pulls open the door and slips into the warmth of the Hyuga compound's main hall.

The huge chamber is crowded this evening, but Haruka finds a spot in the back of a group of milling relations and waits for her paternal uncle- Lord Hiashi, the current clan head- to call her forward.

The young woman tries desperately to finger comb the snarls from her long ebony hair, lamenting her ill luck. If only she had not been summoned so soon after returning from a long day of village reconstruction, she might have been able to make herself more presentable. As it is, she has barely had time to change her shirt- the high collar on this one hides the dark spot upon her neck where her teammate, Genji Uchiha, has been playing around- and wash her pale face and hands. Standing next to the other members of her spotless, kimono-wearing family, she knows that she must look like a barbarian.

Whatever business her uncle is attending to at the other end of the hall is taking forever. At this rate, the lord could have called for her tomorrow and saved her some trouble! To make matters worse, the mouthwatering smell of cooking dinner from the nearby kitchens begins to waft into the room, reminding her just how hungry she is. Stomach growling, Haruka begins to fidget anxiously, one foot tapping on the floor, hands clenching and unclenching. A cousin turns around and looks at her in askance, and she pulls a face at him, irritated. How dare he question her behavior? He is not the starved person being dragged to a meeting for reasons unknown.

"Jerk," she mutters, rising on tiptoe to peer over the mostly brunette heads of her relatives. Her uncle is still handling the case of another supplicant, paying the group of bystanders no notice.

Finally, the other dealings are concluded. Hiashi's tired eyes rake over the crowd of assembled family members- each waiting for their chance to bring matters to the clan head's attention- searching for someone. The opalescent orbs slide over the young _kunoichi _and then continue on. After a long moment they return to her form, and Haruka realizes with a mixture of elation and disappointment that her uncle hardly recognizes her. Hiashi frowns and waves her forward, apparently eager to have their business concluded. Haruka nervously disengages herself from the press of relations and makes her way to the far end of the room.

There, the girl kneels down and bows her head until her standard-issue forehead protector scratches across the green _tatami_. Such obeisance is customary: Haruka and all branch members are trained to be subservient from the time they are old enough to walk. Heart pounding in her chest, the young woman judges that enough time has passed, and she sits up and raises her own pearl eyes to the man on the dais. Her normally loud and commanding voice, the one that she uses to scold her teammates, is gone. Fear changes it into little more than a whisper. That is all right though, because it is what the main branch expects. "You wanted to see me, My Lord?"

Hiashi nods slowly but decisively, his weary eyes focused on a section of the new matting somewhere in front of her. In a calm voice, the man begins to recite almost as if he were reading lines from a sheet of paper. He has undoubtedly done so previously, or has at least been briefed upon this matter by another member of the family. "Haruka, it has come to my attention that earlier this year you failed the Chunin Exam for the second time. Your fellow squad members and a number of your yearmates now outrank you. Furthermore, I have spoken with your _sensei_ and looked at your records, and all I see is a career of mediocrity."

Haruka winces visibly, lowers her slender shoulders and curls inward as though there is a fierce pain in her stomach. She drops her eyes back to the floor, not from customary manners or with a maid's demurness, but out of the sheer terror of meeting the reproachful gaze of her elder. Averageness is not a good thing, and in a distinguished family such as her own it is perhaps the very worst trait a person can be accused of. Hyuga are expected to be among the village's best _shinobi_, always on top. Like the Uchiha clan- their supposed descendants- they are expected to excel at the stealthy, combative art of _ninjutsu_.

And with the ongoing war, those unfortunates whose skills do not meet the predictions of an aging Hokage at assignment time will soon have their remains returned home for cremation.

Hiashi continues speaking by rote, the embarrassing truth falling easily from his lips. Although he certainly cannot be considered blind, he seems totally unaware of the pain he is putting the girl through. It is no wonder, she thinks as she listens to him speaking, that her uncle has a reputation for callousness. Haruka is suddenly glad that her family does not have super hearing. At least this is horrible dressing down is all for her ears only. Too bad the people at the end of the hall are still witnessing it; she is willing to bet that one or two know how to read lips. This conversation will be all over the coumpound within minutes. Nothing like having some two hundred people know your business.

"Your mission earnings barely cover your essential expenses-"

Her uncle's blase words are all too true. Due to the current conflict with the Village Hidden in the Clouds, there are plenty of missions for genin like Haruka, but the wages are low and that money is hardly paying for all of the food she consumes, the room she lives in, and the clothes she wears. Most of the income from a Hyuga _ninja's_ career goes straight into the family coffers, and from this accountants keep a careful record of how much each person brings in versus what it costs to provide them with basic necessities. This is how the family pays their bills and Haruka may as well be a pauper living on credit.

"-and your father is no longer around to make up the difference. It is time we found you something more productive to do."

At the casual mention of her parent, the young woman swallows the hard lump of grief that rises in her throat, blinks rapidly to dispel the hot tears that begin pooling in the corners of her eyes. It takes Haruka every ounce of the discipline she has learned from her profession to keep from breaking down and sobbing before the assembled kin; her father, a thirty-five year old chunin, had been killed three months ago in the surprise attack by the Nine-tailed Fox. Tha pain of that event, overlaying the usual rigors of puberty and Genji's sudden romantic interest, continues to weigh down upon her. Haruka's _shinobi_ career is rapidly losing any luster that it once had.

But that does not mean Haruka wants to give it all up, and quit her team. Lifting her moist eyes once more to the figure seated upon the dais, she struggles to find her voice. "Lord Hiashi-"

Her uncle raises his hand to silence her, his palm facing outward. It is a simple gesture, but an effective one; all the man has to do is gather his _chakra_ and fold down those two smallest fingers, and Haruka's very mind will be destroyed. The devastated young woman heeds the warning and grows quiet. "You don't have to quit Haruka, but from now on your duty to the family comes first. You have a young cousin- Neji, by name- who has just been weaned. We are dismissing his wet nurse now, and he needs someone to care for him. His mother, unfortunately, passed away soon after his birth, and the governess we had lined up was killed in the recent attack."

Haruka just stares, unable to understand what Hiashi is telling her. She knows about Neji, of course; everyone in the cadet branch knows that story, how a little more than two years ago one of her other uncles- Hizashi- had gotten a plebeian girl pregnant and married her in the Hokage's office before the family could stop them. Some whisper that it was the only time the younger son ever disobeyed the family, and they tell how it had all been for nothing because the girl later died after giving birth to a little boy. A child who- excepting the newly born Lady Hinata- is the closest thing to an heir the clan currently has.

"Haruka, are you listening? Did you hear what I said?"

Hiashi's earlier words echo ominiously inside Haruka's still-distracted mind. Comprehension suddenly dawns and, for the _kunoichi_, the realization is even more terrifying than the thought that the dreaded curse seal might be activated. They want her to become a nursemaid! Haruka does not like children, does not know the proper way to care for them. As an orphaned teenager, it could even be argued that she is still a kid herself. How can she be held responsible for a baby, especially one so important? How can her family just decide on this fate for her? What gives them the right to abuse her like this?

Raw anger courses through her, and Haruka leaps nimbly to her feet, white eyes and metal forehead protector flashing in the illumination from the overhead lights. Her sudden movement in the presence of the clan lord is a greivous breach of conduct, and it quickly draws the attention of all those gathered at the far end of the room. Seconds pass and silence fills the entire chamber; the aghast whisperings of the cadet branch die away, to be replaced by avid anticipation of a fight. Hiashi has yet to move from his customary position upon the platform, but now he arches one eyebrow. "Is there something you wish to say?"

Haruka stands straight before her uncle, every muscle in her slim body tensed due to rage. Her small hands are clenched at her sides, short fingernails digging little crescent shapes into the calloused skin of her palms. Many words- acerbic, sarcastic, and definitely opinionated- swirl through the young girl's head, but the eager gaze of the audience standing behind her keeps her tongue safely in check. Haruka has already given the wolves enough to gossip about; she will not make this situation worse by screaming or throwing a tantrum and being used a warning to the rest of the congregation.

But Haruka is not ready to give up her freedom, not quite yet. Her _sensei_ once told her that she could get further with manners and sweetness than threats and cajoling, so the _kunoichi _switches tactics. She does not go so far as to play the coy, simpering maiden; it would be demeaning, and Hiashi would see through that act all too easily. Instead, she falls back to good old-fashioned diplomacy. Spreading her hands wide in entreaty, she attempts to reason with the man before her. "I don't know anything about looking after children. Wouldn't it be better to hire another nanny, or to put him in the family nursery?"

As a reward for the abrupt conclusion of her dramatic performance- Hiashi had no wish to strike the girl down, but would have done so, had it become necessary- he decides to answer her questions, although his position means he is under no obligation to due so. The lord tries to frame his respone gently, but the words are still like a slap in the girl's face. "Do you think you are the only person who lost a parent in the attack? Our nursery is full of orphans and those whose remaining parents are too busy with work to care for them; your aunt Hiroko and her helpers are nearly overwhelmed. As for hiring a caretaker..."

_Why should they, when my services are free and I already know everything about the Byakugan?_

Haruka is so depressed by the realization that she does not hear the lord finish his sentence in a manner not dissimiliar from her own thoughts. "Surely, Uncle Hizashi can-"

Hiashi cuts the girl off by speaking over her, his eyes checking the time upon the small clock that hangs above one of the hall's four exits. This meeting was supposed to be his next to last for the day, and it was supposed to be much quicker; if they are not finished within the next fifteen minutes, the domestics will be unable to drag the tables into the hall for dinner, and the meal will have to be delayed. "Hizashi is a jonin, and he has very important duties for the family and the village. As such, he will often be away, but he wants his son taken care of. We spoke prior to his last assignment, and I gave him my word on this matter."

"But-"

Hiashi fixes her with a white stare that is even frostier than the weather outside, and the _kunoichi_ falls obediently silent. Even now, with her future upon the line, she cannot overcome the fetters which have always been part of her life as a branch member. There will be no further rebellion. Her uncle turns and nods to someone unseen, a predetermined cue, and an old serving woman steps from a shadowy corner of the room and comes forward holding a chubby and silent toddler. Haruka is dismayed to realize that, had she not been told before hand, she would be unable to determine the sex of the child just by looking at it.

So this is to be her destiny.

Upon the dais, Hiashi picks up a sheaf of papers and shuffles them to his satisfaction. Feeling hungry and irritable, he is eager to conclude this appointment, and his summation is curt and- at least to Haruka- hurtful. "His father is currently away on a reconnaissance mission and is not expected to return until early next week, so you are now in charge of him. Your aunt Hiroko will help you with anything you need, and be sure that you are not neglecting him. I have already informed your _sensei _and the proper authorities as to this new arrangement, so you will not be expected for any missions or construction duty tomorrow. You're dismissed."

Haruka remains rooted in place- unable to believe how quickly she is forgotten- as Hiashi begins looking for his last appliant in the lingering crowd. More Hyuga to deal with, more lives to ruin.

Without preamble, the ancient maid drops Neji into Haruka's toned arms and the girl clutches at him awkwardly, settling some of his surprising weight against one narrow hip. This is the first time she has ever held a baby, and it is an uncomfortable sensation. The boy's fat little hands fist into her turtleneck, seeking purchase and perhaps something else. Opalescent eyes, the same as her own, stare up at her with a confused expression- although they are first cousins, he does not recognize her. And then the dark little eyebrows lower, and his round face wrinkles up; Neji begins to cry, impossibly loud wails that shake his tiny frame.

Haruka wants to cry, too.

"You'd best take him outside before he disturbs everyone," the toothless crone whispers, and Haruka scurries away from the repugnant, betraying maid and the critical stares of the family.

The _kunoichi_ slips out a narrow side door and begins to wander down the long hallway toward the dormitories, bouncing the thrashing Neji cautiously against her; the movements are a desperate and mostly instinctive attempt to get him to stop screeching and- after what seems like an eternity- the little trick works. The frightened toddler drifts off to sleep against her shoulder, his small rosebud mouth open and drooling abstract patterns onto the dark, woven fabric of her shirt. Haruka notes with disgust that he is wet in that place where their bodies touch, and the young woman panics because she does not know how to fix it.

A teary-eyed Haruka goes off in search of her aunt Hiroko- the only help now that she has been saddled with a baby- and the sixteen-year-old is acutely aware that her whole life is over.


	10. Exchange: Great Grandmother

_Author's notes: This story features another OC, in the form of Neji's great-grandmother, plus someone else you'd probably never expect in a story about Hyuga. This might be a little out there, but I did the best I could._

**Exchange**

The young woman relaxes upon the dais at the end of the great hall, reclining against aubergine cushions like an exotic queen, and the visiting duo cannot help but think that she looks the part. She is possessed of a slim body, wrapped all around in colorful silk, layers upon layers of the precious material. Her hands are thin, fine, and pale, but if the whispers are true, she can snap a man's neck with them. Gracefully shaped eyes gleam like twin moons under thick black lashes, and her eyebrows are a dramatic sweep across her forehead. A fine nose and the fullest red lips complete her oval face. Thick mahogany hair is piled upon her head like a crown.

In short, Hitomi Hyuga is beautiful.

The taller of the Hyuga clan's guests is a classically handsome, most disciplined and very married man, and he thinks- without a trace of desire- that the person lounging before them is by far the most physically attractive human being he has ever seen. The girl's immaculate body seems to him a gorgeous package for a soul rumored to be so incredibly dark. A fascinating paradox, one that he would love to learn more about. One that he needs to know about, if he is to get what he wants from her and accomplish his overall goal.

Hitomi holds out one bejeweled hand- agate, carnelian, a topaz that blazes like fire- and as she beckons regally to them he catches a glimpse of long nails that have been painted crimson.

The second of the appliants is also a man, the younger brother of the first, and he stays close to his sibling's side. His naturally thin eyes are narrowed, full of distrust, and they glance warily between the indolent goddess before them and her kin, numerous monochrome minions that have closed in to surround them. He has a bad feeling about all of this, but even so his customary humor remains intact. The _shinobi _whispers from the side of his mouth, "Hashirama, those coots standing closest to her look like the life has been sucked out of them. Didn't someone once refer to her as 'The Black Widow?'"

A small smile forms upon the face of the first man, for he is inclined to agree with his brother Tobirama's statement; the pearly-eyed family's counselors do seem rather decrepit, at least next to the splendor of their youthful mistress. According to the disappointingly scant results of his earlier research, however, Hashirama knows that the younger man is wrong about one thing: "If someone called her that, it must be some kind of sexual reference. She's never actually been married, although there are rumors that Madara's parents tried to secure a betrothal a long time ago. Seems the Hyuga weren't interested."

"Imagine that," Tobirama chuckles, his eyes still darting nervously around the room. In the diffuse glow of afternoon sunlight pouring through the great hall's many high-set windows, he can see what must be the whole of the Hyuga clan standing in attendance. Nearly all are wearing kimono, although there are a few dark colored training outfits thrown into the mix, and the contrast between these casual clothes and the armor he and his brother wear is startling. Despite the fact that this is a _ninja_ household, there are no weapons to be seen, and that detail makes him anxious- could this nonchalance be the sign of a trap?

Hashirama must be thinking along those same lines- although it is hard to tell, when his onyx eyes steadfastly refuse to leave the perfection up ahead- for he motions for his sibling to stand further back and act as a rear-guard during this tension filled meeting. If these Hyuga are planning an assassination, perhaps at the behest of the dissenter the brothers spoke of earlier, it is better that they both not be caught in it. For the sake of their own distinguished family, and for their brilliant plan- now tantalizingly close to fruition- one of them has to make it out of this crowded room alive.

Hashirama wraps one large hand around his necklace. It is an old family heirloom- a small, clear crystal suspended by a thick cord- and he has long considered it to be his personal good luck charm. Whispering a quick prayer, he takes a deep breath and exhales slowly before letting the pendant go. Then he squares his shoulders and forces himself to walk confidently down the aisle, past what seems like a thousand staring opalescent eyes. When the eldest Senju brother reaches the dais, he stops and bows politely toward the woman resting languidly before him, treating her as an equal. "Greetings, Lady Hyuga."

Hitomi's eyes are intent upon him, and she smiles slightly at his salutation. The action provides Hashirama with a glimpse of even, brilliant white teeth, but there is no warmth in the gesture. "Well? And who are you supposed to be?"

Hashirama is momentarily taken aback, and it shows upon his face. This girl knows very well who he is; when he and Tobirama had first arrived at the compound, they had written her the customary letters of introduction, asking if she would be so kind as to meet with them in regards to important business. Though they had been made to wait outside the main gate for ten whole days, she had agreed. Moreover, the brothers had been properly announced by a servant when they entered the grand hall. The haughty young woman is simply being difficult, trying to hide her inexperience in these matters by keeping him off balance.

The head of the Senju clan vows that the striking upstart will not get the better of him twice. Still, although he has always been proficient in negotiation, he is unsure of exactly how to proceed. How do you ask someone whose family has held this part of Fire Country for generations to relinquish their tightfisted hold on the land and join in a military alliance? If only this were as easy as speaking with the other clans. Still, if he made it through the Uchiha, and he somehow did, he can make it through this. He decides to rely on courtesy, "I'm your humble servant, Hashirama Senju. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

"So you are the man everyone's calling the strongest _shinobi_? The one who can win any battle, not matter what the odds?" Hitomi purses her luscious red lips and arches one delicately shaped brow upward. Her pearlescent eyes drop to his feet and skim upward, taking in every armored inch of him and perhaps more, and she manages to seem disdainful and not at all impressed. In one smooth gesture, the Hyuga leader pulls a highly decorated fan from her long, wide sleeve and flips it open, waving it slowly for her own personal comfort and feigning a great disinterest in the whole situation.

Hashirama frowns, watching that elegantly painted fan flip back and forth. This conversation- or rather the lack of it- is going much worse than he had thought it would. At least the lady has not ordered their deaths yet. Still, he needs to regain some control of the situation, and put this woman at ease. How best to do that? The pouch of black pearls he had brought as a gift hangs heavy at his waist, but something warns Hashirama not to try and buy this girl off. He decides to try and talk his way out of trouble, acts with the humility she has just accused him of. "Some may say that. I'm really just a man with a dream."

Hitomi sits up the moment he is finished speaking, snaps the gilded fan shut with an audible click that puts everyone present in mind of a beheading. She laughs then, and the sound is quiet and light in the oppressive summer air, like a gently rushing stream spilling downhill across the smoothest of stones. However, her bright eyes show no trace of mirth, and she does not smile again. It is painfully obvious that this cold-hearted young woman does not think much of the aspirations of men and- with a glance at the elderly counselors standing behind her- she proceeds to tell Hashirama as much. "And what would that be? This dream of yours?"

Hashirama glances backward just as his brother shoots him a warning glare; he gives the barest of nods, understanding the unspoken message. Although she is young, Hitomi Hyuga is the leader of her prestigious clan, not some little child. She wants a proposition, not a forest prince describing a fairytale filled with sugar-coated promises. He will need to be more careful with his words, will have to keep from insulting her intelligence any more than he already has. The leader of the Senju family decides to be as frank with her as he has been with all of the other clans and their respective male heads.

"Lady Hyuga, please do me the honor of hearing me out. It is my belief that this country could use a formal military force, a band of like-minded, allied _shinobi_ willing to maintain a peace and use our skills both for the benefit of our clans and the Land of Fire as a whole. I would like to establish a _ninja_ village- this state's sole one- here at the base of these tall mountains. The location is perfect, with the deep forest as cover and the rivers and peaks acting as natural barriers to our enemies. The _daimyo_ has already given his consent, and a number of other families have already agreed to this."

In sharp contrast to his impassioned speech, Hitomi says one word: "Oh?"

Hashirama just manages to hold back the sigh of relief; at least the Hyuga representative seems somewhat interested in his idea. Maybe his charm can still carry the day, get them all what they want and need. He meets her unnerving eyes and inclines his head toward her gracefully, causing a strand of his dark hair to slide over his wide shoulders and dangle before his polished breastplate. "Lady Hyuga, the land has been at war for many years, and this ceaseless conflict is doing nothing positive for either our country or our peoples. I would like to propose a truce, an end to all of this cruel fighting and bloodshed-"

Hitomi cuts him off, and her voice is sharp with an undercurrent of anger. She gestures to the multitudes of people jamming the great hall. "Perhaps this fighting has been cruel to you but, as you can see, our population is actually _growing_. Furthermore, we Hyuga have the advantage of the land; why shouldn't I just sit back and wait for you and the Uchiha to destroy one another? As far as I can see, there is nothing advantageous about an alliance with you, and I cannot believe the other families- foolish and weak as they are- would have agreed to this madness. Tell me, what did you promise them? The Nara, and the Inuzuka dogs?"

Hashirama almost smiles. Hitomi has made a grave mistake; by allowing herself to rant at him, she has betrayed herself and shown what a political novice she truly is. The leader of the Senju clan chooses that moment to drop the biggest bombshell of them all. "I haven't promised those families anything but peace with each other and the stability that comes from having a steady stream of honest work. And as for the Uchiha, I can assure you we won't be annihilating one another any time soon- we've already signed a treaty. I can show it to you, if you'd like. My brother Tobirama has it, and it bears the signature of Madara Uchiha."

The whispers begin then, a quiet humming that flits around the cavernous room like the sound of dove's wings. It is clear the all-seeing Hyuga were not expecting this newest development.

Hitomi's eyes narrow- perhaps the young woman is revising some estimate she had previously made about him- and her fair face takes on a pinched look that leaves Hashirama close to gloating. When she speaks, her cursed subordinates fall silent immediately. "The mark of an Uchiha is of less worth than the paper is it scribbled upon; sooner or later Madara will betray you, and the whole cycle of violence will begin again. I will not allow my family to become the victims of your delusions of grandeur. Hashirama Senju, there is no way that the Hyuga clan will join your alliance, and I will not cede my lands to you."

The bitter reply is the one that Hashirama has been expecting, but he is not beaten yet. "Please don't be so rash, Lady Hyuga. A hasty answer is not always the best one; you should take some time to consider all the possibilities. Perhaps Madara will eventually prove disloyal to our cause, but it is every bit as likely that he will not. If all the local clans come together, where does that leave the Hyuga? You will have little work; the only individuals who'll hire you will be those who are desperate to go against the people who hire us. We will be the ones with numbers on our side then. As you said earlier, it will merely be a waiting game."

Hitomi is seething, obviously indignant at his insinuation. The various gemstone rings upon her fingers flash in the afternoon sunlight as she clenches her small hands, and Hashirama can see the blue veins pop out in stark relief against the white canvas of her flawless skin. "You certainly are insolent."

"Not insolent, Lady, merely truthful."

These last words of Hashirama's are little more than a bluff. The leader of the Senju clan is not omnipotent; he has no way of knowing if events will play out as he has stated. Chances are good that- with the crucial backing of the other families- he could win a war against the Hyuga, exterminate them and take their stronghold with the legal authority given to him by the _daimyo_. However, rumor has it that the Hyuga-style _taijutsu_ is very dangerous, although he has never seen it for himself, and is almost guaranteed that some would choose not to fight against it. If any of the clans were to back out, or turn traitor...

Hitomi's voice startles him from his musings. Her words are clipped and cold, sharp contrast to the stifling heat that fills the great hall. "I do not take kindly to being threatened, you know."

Hashirama keeps his face completely blank, forces his heart to beat normal time. He calculates the risk and lies to the prima donna, still feigning the unpretentiousness that he has used throughout this encounter. "That was no threat, Lady Hyuga. It would be exceedingly stupid of me to try and intimidate you within your own hall, wouldn't it? Not to mention, rude. I merely wish that we could have the chance to talk at length, perhaps without the restrictions from so formal a ceremony, or the inhibitions caused by so many prying eyes. We are both smart, capable people, and I am sure that we could reach some sort of accord."

"Hmm. You did declare yourself my humble servant, did you not?"

Hashirama feels hope rise at the prospect of one-on-one negotiation. "Yes, Milady."

Now Hitomi smiles- a striking and genuine smile- but one that seems somehow menacing. She gives a dismissive little wave to the gathered members of her clan, and the room around them begins to clear to like magic. Hashirama glances over his shoulder just as an unmarked boy with a face like thunder wanders forward and takes the hand of his brother Tobirama; he begins to lead him away, promising to give him a _taijutsu_ demonstration. Servants drop the shutters over the windows, causing the lighting in the room to dim considerably, before they too disappear. The last of the four doors bangs shut, and the two clan heads find themselves alone.

Hashirama turns his face back to Hitomi, intending to compliment her on the discipline of her people. The words die in his throat, however; Hitomi has risen gracefully to her feet, and he is surprised to see that she is much shorter than he is, even standing upon the dais. He watches in shocked fascination as she pulls an engraved silver pin from her hair, and the reddish brown mass tumbles down in rich waves, cascading to her slender, cinched waist. He can smell her rich perfume from even from this distance- an intense combination of orchid and sandalwood- and its intoxicating scent makes him lightheaded.

"What you promise me, Hashirama Senju, you had better make good on. You agree to serve me for the rest of the afternoon, fully and without complaint, and I will cooperate and allow you to build your village on my lands. Do we have a deal?"

Hitomi's mellifluous voice has dropped to a seductive tone that the leader of the forest clan had not imagined possible, but his frantic mind works through the spell within the span of the next heartbeat. Abruptly, Hashirama realizes that the girl's earlier loss of composure had been an act, one designed to maneuver their conversation to the point where he had suggested they be alone. She has manipulated him, utterly beaten him in this battle of wits, and now he must submit to whatever twisted plans she has made for the two of them. Or else he must abandon his dream and settle for a prolonged war...

Hashirama takes a deep breath- mentally apologizing to his wife and cursing himself for wanting to know this woman better- and then he opens his mouth and damns himself. "We have a bargain."

Hitomi smiles once more and pulls her silken sash, and the sibilant sound of the rich material unwinding itself is like a lover's whisper. As if the material is enchanted, her colorful garments slip off smooth white shoulders and gently curved hips to pool like a rainbow at her dainty feet. She stands there unabashed, flawlessly nude and body entrancing, allowing his gaze the opportunity to roam over her exquisite form. And then the young woman begins to move forward, stepping off the dais and coming toward him, all tightly coiled _chakra _and swaying bodily perfection; Hashirama is reminded of his brother's earlier comment:

_...The Black Widow..._

What has he gotten himself into?

* * *

Late afternoon sunlight slants through the nearby trees, clad in their early autumn raiment. Hashirama stands in the center of the newly-cleared plot of land at the base of the mountains, supervising the building of what has already come to be called the Hokage's Tower and its nearby residence. The structures are to be the village center, and they are named after the grand title that has been bestowed upon him, the one he beat Madara Uchiha for. The leader of the Senju clan watches as a group of laborers lift a heavy wooden beam into place, and feels a swell of pride. Something wonderful is rising from the ashes of warfare, and it was all his idea.

A honeyed voice startles him- one that he has not heard for more than a year, one that he had never wanted to hear again, after that crazed day in the Hyuga great hall. "This is…elaborate."

Hashirama whirls around and there Hitomi Hyuga is, standing not five paces away from him. The young woman is watching the construction with an avid concentration, her opalescent eyes narrowed against the brightness of the blue sky. Among the tall scaffolding and hulking workers, she is like a small and exotic flower. Observing the calculating look upon her face, the man amends his thought; the Hyuga clan head is like the venomous wasp that hides between the petals, beautiful in its own way but also incredibly deadly. He vows in that moment that he will be more careful, and never be stung by her again.

Still, Hashirama inclines his ebony head to her, aware of the many people around them. "My Lady Hyuga. How nice to-"

The rest of the courteous words fail Hashirama as he truly looks Hitomi over, his onyx eyes glancing for the first time past her thoughtful and attractive face. There, held quite securely in the prison of her delicate arms, is a tiny swaddled babe. The infant is sucking greedily from one pale exposed breast- the mammary gland is considerably fuller than when Hashirama last saw it- and its white skin is shielded from the rays of the sun by one of the many gauzy layers she is wearing. A fine head of jet black hair is visible through the garment, obviously a genetic contribution from the child's other parent-

Hashirama's stomach drops as the sight of it, and he finally finds the appropriate phrases. "What a surprise, Lady Hyuga. My heartiest congratulations on the birth of your child. Is it a boy?"

Hitomi smiles, and the gesture manages to outdo even the brilliant sunlight. The young woman peers slyly across the field, to the roots of a spreading oak tree where his wife Mito and his daughter are laying out a late picnic lunch. They linger upon the duo for a moment, before she turns those concentrated orbs back to him. Quite the coquette, she bats her dark eyelashes at him while switching the baby easily to her other breast. Hashirama looks away, feeling violated as she tells him, "Yes, his name is Hideyoshi, and he is heir to the leadership of my clan. He's three months old now, and I'm very proud of him."

Across the way, Hashirama's little girl jumps up and frantically waves her small hands, trying to get his attention. "Daddy! Daddy! Daddy, lunch is ready!"

Hashirama waves to her, tells her with an exaggerated smile that he will be there in a moment. Then he turns back to the head of the Hyuga household, and the smile fades to something more pained- the woman had not allowed any form of contraceptive to be used during that darkened room. Furthermore, she had made him wait ten days for their meeting in the first place, perhaps timing it all just right. There is little chance that this child was fathered by anyone other than himself. Even so, Hashirama asks for the truth a very roundabout way, hoping that the conclusion he has come to is a miscalculation. "I didn't hear of your wedding."

Hitomi's pearl eyes shift downward to the still form of her suckling baby, looking at him with an emotion that Hashirama cannot place: Pride? Love? Satisfaction at a job so well done? She holds up her son, allowing the leader of the forest clan one full glimpse of the handsome child before she turns him around and lays him across her should to burp him. Her jeweled hand comes up and begins to stroke the small back with well-practiced motions. "Oh? Well that's because there wasn't one. The elders had it all planned out, a distant cousin whom my father made the mistake of leaving unsealed, but this worked out much better. Don't you think so?"

Hashirama catches his shrewd wife watching them now, no doubt wondering why he is speaking with a woman who is so uncouth as to stand blatantly before him, uncovered in public. He knows will have to put an end to this conversation soon- Mito is rather possessive- without upsetting Hitomi. The damn woman has a hold over him now- she has traded her lands and autonomy for a bastard child, his only son- one that Hashirama doubts he will ever be able to break. That awful used feeling returns with a vengeance, and the head of the Senju clan pushes it away. "It isn't safe here, you should probably-"

That feral smile returns as Hitomi senses the depth of his worry. She pirouettes like a dancer and the flowing movement sends waves of her expensive, heady perfume wafting to his nose. As Hashirama brings up one hand to cover the assaulted sensor- the one that is best tied to memory- the magnificent young woman begins to wander away. Just when he thinks the encounter has ended, she turns her mahogany head and calls over her unoccupied shoulder in a saucy manner that is most unfit for the head of a clan, "It was a pleasure doing business with you, My Lord Hokage."


	11. Exile: Neji

**Exile**

Neji Hyuga is tired.

No, not just tired, for that word cannot describe anything close to what the teenager is feeling, does not do it justice. Neji is physically and emotionally exhausted beyond belief. He had been told by other, older shinobi that the Chunin Exams did that to a person, but with his customary arrogance he had dismissed their claims. Was he not a genius, after all? Surely he could handle a little camping trip, even if he did have to put up with that idiot Rock Lee and some whiney Academy graduates?

After five days in the wilderness, each one filled with countless fights over the possession of some stupid scrolls, after precious little food and all of it nasty, and after less sleep than an insomniac gets, he was inclined to take their words at face value. After waiting through countless preliminary matches, and then fighting his own, after watching his teammates be hauled away to the hospital one by one, all his weary body wants is to return home.

The gate comes into view, not the large main one but the side entrance, bearing the Hyuga banner, and for once Neji is glad to see it. He can go into the compound, go to his small room, drop into his familiar bed, and sleep for days. When he wakes up, he will eat a good meal, one fit for a growing young man, and then begin training again. He has made it into the finals, after all. By this time next month, Neji may be a chunin.

He crosses the wide lawn undetected, grass browning from the extreme summer heat, and heads directly toward the nearly deserted wing where his room is. One hugely difficult step up onto the porch, plus three more careful ones to keep the floor from singing beneath his feet, and then he slides open the heavy wooden door and steps into the hallway. Almost there. Soon he will get his hard earned rest. His bandaged hand is on the smooth wood and paper of his bedroom door, ready to slide it open.

The blow, when it comes, is completely unexpected.

It does not hurt, not really. Mostly it is a surprise, an unwelcome one, and Neji's shocked and disjointed mind wonders briefly why he never felt the attack coming. Whirling on instinct to face his opponent, and resisting the urge to put his hand to his slightly stinging cheek, he is amazed to see his grandmother standing there. Confused, Neji drops out of his Gentle Fist stance but forgets the customary bow.

Now that she has his full and undivided attention, Grandmother Masako's small, perfect hand drops to her side. Even there though, half hidden by her kimono sleeve, it curls into a fist as if she would like to hit him again. Her dark, doe-like eyes are red at the edges, as if she has been recently crying, and for once her beautiful face seems to reflect some sort of anguish. Neji does not think he has even seen her look as uncomposed as this.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Masako's voice is an angry and sharp whisper, pitched so that it barely reaches his ears. She would rather no one else hear this conversation, or know of her disloyalty to the council of elders. At the end of this narrow corridor, full of nothing more than ghosts of yesterday, that is unlikely to happen. And yet, if she was smart enough to wait for him here, others would also be.

The old woman's question is too vague. Neji does not know what she means, so he simply stares at her with his tired pearl eyes.

"Hinata?" Watching her favorite grandchild struggle to comprehend, Masako asks once more, her voice now laced with an undercurrent of desperation. "Neji, why did you fight Lady Hinata?"

Why?

Weary as Neji is, he would rather not have to think of Hinata and the long awaited revenge against the main branch that had not felt as good as he'd so often imagined. Instead, he makes the only reply that he can, the one that leaves destiny as the villain, and not himself. "We were matched together, Honorable Grandmother. It was a randomly determined fight, and she knew the rules. I cannot be deemed responsible for her foolish actions."

"Is that all you have to say? So what?" Masako wrings her delicate hands in a manner unseen by most Hyuga. She is simply overwrought, having spent the last few days worrying secretly about her grandchildren while presenting a strong and confident face to the world. She had even bet her husband a full month's income that Neji would pass the exam, mostly out of pride but also as a way to goad the man. "That's not a good reason, Neji."

What better reason could there have been, he wonders? Anger is taking hold now, just as it did hours ago, and it puts new life into his body. Neji crosses his arms over his dirty clothing and meets her dark gaze with his own. This could be considered the epitome of rudeness, but he feels the woman needs to know that he feels no shame over his actions. His voice is biting. "What should I have done, then? Forfeited the very moment our names were announced?"

"Yes! Exactly." Exasperated beyond belief, Masako almost throws her hands in the air. She also does a little circle, a dance of irritation, checking behind them to be sure that they are not being watched. What she is about to do counts as treason. When she is once more facing Neji, she continues, "Or, if your pride is worth so damn much to you, you should have backed down later in the match. In short, you should have done anything but what you did. How stupid could you have been?"

In the back of his exhausted mind, underneath his building anger, Neji thinks that his grandmother almost sounds like Tenten now. No matter, though. If there is one thing the Hyuga teenager hates above all else, it is to be criticized by anyone, no matter what their relation to him. He stands firm, tense and silent, and is hard put to keep the dark glare off his face.

Masako does not back down. She tries once more to make him see reason. "Neji, you nearly killed her. She might be dying even as we speak."

_Like you all killed my father? _

The unspoken words hang heavy in the small space between them, the one that is somehow like a yearning gulf, and unbreachable chasm. Masako hears them anyway, and a new pain comes to her face, one that she thought she had hidden away years ago. She begins to cry again, silent and frustrated tears. "You're next, do you know that? They're in the main hall, your uncle and all the elders, debating your fate now. Most are in favor of killing you without delay. They've had enough, Neji!"

Funny, Neji thinks, his impending death does not worry him at all. He is a little disappointed, though, that he will not be finishing the exam.

Masako abruptly crosses the distance between them, moving with a determination that is shocking. Before Neji can move away, she grabs his hand, slaps a silken wallet into his calloused palm. Her words come quickly. "I will not lose another child to this family. Get out. I don't care where you go, or what you do. Just leave and do not come back until I send for you. I can't believe you were so stupid. If we're fortunate, I can convince them to spare you."

Neji stares dumbly at the colorful wallet in his hands, then looks back to his grandmother. She wants him to run away? To hide like a coward? To live?

Is she taking his side? Is someone finally choosing him over Hinata?

Somewhere in the distance a door slams, and the sound jump starts the world into motion. Masako, heart beating fearfully inside her chest, shoves him hard, much harder than Neji had thought the old woman would be capable of, and then she turns around and heads back toward the main hall at a jog. Her hard voice floats back to him, commanding. "Get going."

Neji has become so used to obeying orders that he is out of the side gate and into the dusty lane before he even realizes he has left the house.

* * *

Neji walks the wide and lonely streets of Konoha for a very long time.

He wanders aimlessly through the shadows caused by the gathering dusk, unsure where even to go. He has no friends to speak of, no one that would really want to help him. At least, he cannot think of a single person, and even if he could, Neji is not the sort to accept charity. The only place that comes to mind is the public building where ninja hang out when not assigned missions, but fear of being recognized drives him away. Neji is too prideful to sit around and let everyone know he has been thrown out of his home.

As darkness falls, it begins to rain, a heavy downpour so characteristic of the summertime. Fat, warm droplets pelt Neji's skin, loosening and then removing the layers of caked on grime that had accumulated during the exam. Water straightens his hair, plastering it against his back in a manner most annoying, and his clothes begin to retain liquid like a sponge. Mud begins to build in the roadway, sneaking into his open sandals. The Hyuga quickly becomes miserable.

Soaked, Neji pauses by the nearest restaurant, Ichiraku, and briefly considers stooping under the dripping awning into the bright, welcoming lights. Once inside, he could get something to eat, or at the very least he could wait out the storm. He quickly counts the money he has been given, surprised at the amount, and is about to enter when a voice rings out from inside, praising the ramen.

Neji would know that loud, annoying voice anywhere. He turns on his heel and heads back out into the wet night, unwilling to deal with Naruto Uzumaki.

It occurs to Neji, as he walks down one sopping and deserted road after another, that he has never done a single thing for himself. Never paid a bill, never really cleaned his room or done his own laundry, or even, with the small exception of the Forest of Death, found and cooked his own food. Although Neji walks around cloaked in adult mannerisms, he is not one in even the barest sense of the word. He is totally screwed.

As if to illustrate his point, ominious lightning strikes nearby. Thunder rumbles loudly, and the lights of the nearby buildings dim momentarily and go out before flickering back on. This must be the lowest point of his life.

When Neji stops out of instinct to get his bearings, he looks around and finds himself in the part of town that houses Konoha's lower rent apartments. Recognizing the nearest building, although he has never really been inside, simply dropped of its inhabitant once, he makes up his mind. Hurrying into the dark but thankfully dry concrete stairwell, he climbs up three agonizingly long flights and knocks on the heavy door of the corner domicile.

After a few long heartbeats, the thick wooden door opens a crack and Tenten's worried face peers out. "Neji? What are you doing here?"

Neji cannot tell her, but it does not seem to matter. Tenten flings the door open wide, and he steps into the cramped entryway, dripping all over her floor.

It is going to be long exile.


	12. Reflection: Hiashi

_Author's notes: Thank you for the reviews, I really appreciated them. I figured that if the one with the Hokage and then Neji running off to Tenten didn't do it, I'd never get any. Thanks again, and here's a weird little Hiashi drabble._

**Reflection**

In a twist of fate not well known, Hiashi Hyuga, recognized far and wide as an elite ninja and the head of the esteemed Hyuga clan, hates mirrors. Their clear and gleaming face, so like his famous family's own magic eyes, seems to steal into his very soul and reveal the terrible darkness within. When confronted, all of his past crimes seem to surface, blazing bright like the reflection of a candle upon glass, glowing there for everyone to see.

* * *

Hiashi slides into the world one cold and dark morning and lies kicking and screaming between his mother's white thighs while the midwife bends carefully over him and severs the umbilical cord. One small snip and he is free in the world, his own person, heir to the most powerful family in the village. As the midwife reaches to lift him up, his mother screams again in pain and disbelief. Bright red blood gushes forth from that sacred place which he had passed through just a moment before.

From tiny and inexperienced lungs, Hiashi howls his great indignation at being re-wetted and at the brother who is born almost atop him.

This second baby, eerily silent and completely unexpected, shivers in the chill air and curls to lie against him. Overhead, their young mother Masako covers her dark eyes with her hands and sobs at this failure of her primary duty. The old family midwife makes the ancient sign to ward off evil.

Never before has the clan had two children birthed together.

And all the while, the _Kagami_- the secret mirror to the soul- holds the cuddled twins in its gaze just as they had been held in their mother's womb hours earlier.

* * *

They are three years old and practicing their budding ninja skills, sneaking slowly and carefully around the outside of the great house. Stealthily, they cross the old nightingale floor toward their mother's luxurious quarters, young ears strained the limit. Ahead, their parents can be heard conversing in low tones. Hizashi slides the shoji door open without a sound, and they cross the large tatami reception chamber to the bedroom door, where they sit listening, quite happy at remaining undetected.

Their father, the stern Lord Hideyoshi, can be heard saying, "In the ancient tradition of the clan, the elders and I have decided that Hiashi, as the eldest son, will inherit my powers as clan head. Hizashi will unfortunately get nothing, and will furthermore be relegated to cadet status. He will receive the mark on his fourth birthday."

Neither brother is very sure what mark their parents are discussing, for they have had little contact with their distant branch cousins, but little Hizashi begins to tremble uncontrollably and cannot explain why. He leans hard against his older brother, seeking the comfort and reassurance that can only come from his other half, and together they continue to listen.

"How can you do that?" Their mother's voice is usually soft and lilting, but now she sounds shaken. The beautiful Lady Masako, who has settled well into motherhood, cannot comprehend her husband's harsh decision. It goes against the most basic rules of family, against the very laws of nature. "You cannot separate them like that, choose one over the other, when they are the same," she argues. "Even I cannot tell them apart."

"That's not true," their father replies, stating his case with an unnatural detachment. He could be discussing the weather, for all the ease in his voice. "Hiashi is proving to be the stronger of the two, and as far as their resemblance to one another, Hizashi has that scar on his stomach were the midwife accidentally cut him. Rest assured, I will not mistake the one for the other when the time comes."

At this, the shaking Hizashi puts a small hand over his scarred stomach and began to cry silently, tears dripping from his white eyes to fall and spot the woven floor matting. Hiashi puts one hand on his shoulder, a silent promise that nothing bad will happen to him. It is a promise the child cannot keep, and his little twin continues to weep. Unbeknownst to the two, in the bedroom, their mother is doing the same, and they hear their father stand to leave.

Hiashi quickly pulls his brother underneath the polished mahogany table by the door, and they sit wide-eyed and still as fawns as the shoji rattles open and their father strides across the large space, their sobbing mother pleading at his heels. Hideyoshi is almost to the entrance of the reception room when he catches sight of them in the reflection of their mother's full length mirror. Heartbeats pass as they all four stare at one another, and then Hideyoshi makes his move. Turning, he beckons for them to stand before him.

Caught by the mirror again, Hiashi thinks as he steps carefully from under the table and straightens to his full but diminutive height before his father. This is not the first time it has happened. The twins never seem to remember that reflections and shadows can be as much their enemy as keenly sensitive parents. Very slowly, Hizashi comes to stand next to his brother, but he slouches and it is very obvious that he would like nothing more than to disappear. At least fright has dried his tears.

Hideyoshi is silent for a long moment, standing like a statue of some ancient warlord, his arms crossed over his barrel chest and his feet spread. He looks down on them, passed his regal nose, passing judgment on their antics. And he is not pleased. "So, the two of you were spying again." It is not a question, although it sounds a bit like one, and neither child attempts an answer. "Did you overhear?"

They nod wordlessly together, indistinguishable from one another, although Hizashi sniffles just a bit.

Masako jumps in at that, turning grief stricken dark eyes onto Hizashi, mistaking him for his older brother as usual. Although she loves both of her children dearly, her duties to her adopted clan and husband keep her very busy, and she has not yet developed the instinctive knowledge that allows a mother to discern one child from another. Not that it matters. If her husband has his way, they will be as different as day and night, even to the untrained eye. "And you're okay with that? With losing your brother?"

No, Hiashi is most definitely not okay with it. It dawns on his young mind, however, that his father will do as he pleases regardless of their feelings. Fighting him will only make it worse, and so Hiashi steps forward, boldly and bravely drawing attention to himself, while Hizashi seems to do the opposite. The older boy glances back toward Hizashi, trying to apologize through their deep bond for what he is about to do.

_I'm so sorry, 'Zashi... I have no choice._

"Well?" Hideyoshi asks, longing to hear his oldest son answer Masako's question. It is not out of some perverse enjoyment; it is a test. Hideyoshi must know now if the child will be strong enough to shoulder the burden of leadership, if he can make painful decisions. And live with them.

Hizashi looks to his older brother, recognizing the difficult position Hiashi has been put in, and nods mutely. He is understanding, and accepting, but still so very frightened.

The confirming nod of his brother freeing him, Hiashi straightens his posture a little more and does what he has to. "It's fine," he lies to his parents, and only the hitch in his young voice betrays him. He has doomed his brother, consigned him to a life of second class and servitude. Now nothing will ever be the same between them.

Masako buries her face into her palms, locks her knees to keep from sinking to the floor.

Hideyoshi claps his hands, the sound echoing loudly in the sparsely furnished room, and a cousin enters through the far doorway- marked like the rest, funny that they had never noticed before. With a bow to the head and another for Hiashi, he takes the stunned Hizashi away. The younger twin does not make a sound, does not even look as he is hoisted onto the young man's shoulder and carried from the chamber.

_I guess we don't have to worry about the mirror anymore. _Hiashi, all of three years old, continues to stand straight and tall and dry-eyed. The twins will never play ninja again.

* * *

After that, the busy Hiashi rarely sees his brother. The family conspires to keep them apart, to help speed them through the separation anxiety and make it clear that they now belong to different castes. The twins no longer share the same bedroom, bathe together, wear the same style of clothing, or eat at the same table. Their tutors are as different as their curriculum. They even visit their mother at separate times, simply passing one another in the hallway. Often, they are too well watched for even the quickest of embraces.

Hizashi begins to wear the loose black taijutsu training uniform common to the family, and after the initial fear and loneliness pass, his mood is every bit as dark. One elder is heard to comment that the sullen little boy looks like he is attending a funeral, and another replies that indeed Hizashi is- his own. Anymore, the boy lives on his anger at being the forgotten and abandoned child.

Hiashi, on the other hand, spends most of his time with his father and the family elders, learning to be the head of the clan. He receives the very best of everything, and his whole life is mapped out before him, filled with endless possibility. And yet nothing he ever does, or accomplishes, seems to fill the empty and aching spot in his chest where his brother once sat.

When Hiashi looks in the mirror, he should see a young lord staring back. Instead, he barely sees himself.

* * *

Hiashi was excited on the winter's day he turned four years old. His birthday meant that there would be a party, and he would get to see Hiashi, would get to spend time with him as he had not since the birth of their newest sibling, a baby brother named Hisao, months ago. They could discuss their shinobi training, test the new found Byakugan on one another, maybe even spar. They could pretend to be a normal, loving family.

Hiashi entered the family's public dojo, expecting the large room to be lain with delicious food, treats from all over. He expected many gifts, some for himself and plenty for Hizashi as well, all bearing multicolored wrappings, ribbons, and large bows. He expected the traditional guests to be assembled, the whole family crowded round to watch, plus a few new ones, like the Hokage he had recently been introduced to.

What he sees instead is a plain old room, not even unusually clean, devoid of decoration but filled with the Hyuga clan elders, including his father. So far as he can tell, his mother and sister and new baby brother are not present. How odd. The double doors that lead to the courtyard have been slid open to reveal all of the branch family members waiting in the chill air outside. They are silent and watchful as he takes his rightful place next to his father. Are they going to sing or something?

And where is Hizashi? Hiashi has a sudden sick feeling, worried that the clan might have forbidden his brother to even have a birthday. Could the family due that, change someone's date of birth at a whim? He would not be surprised.

A moment later, a door opens on the other side of the room, and Hizashi is thrust through the portal by two maids. He is dressed in a dark kimono, his long hair pulled away from his baby face. He stands there immobile while the door closes behind him with a final, betraying click, small eyes wide and tiny chest heaving, as though he has struggled against something. Did they try to keep him away from the party? No matter, Hiashi thinks brightly. His twin has made it after all.

The sudden flaring to life of his father's strong chakra is startling, and Hiashi watches in a state of frozen, fascinated horror as his little brother crosses the huge room to stand directly before them. Hideyoshi mutters something, hands flying through a great number of signs, too many to follow, and then he lays his large right hand on the young Hizashi's head. There comes a stench like burning flesh, and the boy begins to scream. The sound echoes wildly.

Hanging high upon the four walls of the dojo, the mirrors that are used to observe one's Gentle Fist technique reflect the madness of it all from eight different angles.

They are still there many years later, when Hiashi- now a frightened father- is the one who drives his brother to his knees.

* * *

No one understands it, this horrible sense of guilt and loneliness. Not his grieving mother, or aging father. Not even the pretty and distantly related wife they choose for him, the one friend he has in whom he confides all of his secrets. After Hizashi's untimely and unnatural death, he orders them thrown down, all of the mirrors in the home and on the estate. Only those small private ones may be left, and should he walk into a room, they must be immediately covered or removed.

Hizashi is the clan head now, and his word is law.

He looks into the _Kagami_ after the birth of his second daughter and, seeing his lost brother reflected there, breaks it with his bare hands.


	13. Prodigy: Neji

_Author's notes: Some people might think Neji is a little OC in this one, but he really seems to be a happy child before his father's death, so I made him more like a normal kid, just somewhat smarter. Reviews?_

**Prodigy**

"Hello, Neji!" Haruka calls out her greeting, voice rising to a higher and more happy tone, as she steps onto the wide and well swept veranda and settles herself cross-legged next to her tiny cousin. The warm afternoon sunlight falls softly upon the pair, seemingly highlighting the family resemblance- an outsider, observing the two of them, would think they were simply a brother and sister with too many years passed between them. "I missed you," the young woman says, and it is the truth.

Neji is three years old now, meaning she has spent roughly the last year and a half of her life looking after him. Once, Haruka had thought he would be the end of her freedom, but by now she has grown well accustomed to him, and she loves him as though he were her own child. Neji loves her right back, but then again, why should he not? Save for his father, and sometimes their grandmother, she is the only person in this huge household to pay any attention to him. Haruka thinks that is a shame; Neji is such a good baby, too.

"What are you doing?" Haruka dangles her long legs off the side of the porch and begins swinging them, careless of the tiny splinters that threaten to snag her thin grey cotton trousers. She leans toward her little cousin, craning her delicate neck and trying to see what the child is up to. When he curls inward, trying to hide whatever it is he is working on, Haruka sighs dejectedly and moves back. "Fine," she pouts playfully. One hand reaches back and grabs her ponytail, and she pulls the mass forward and begins to braid her long hair. "Don't tell me."

Neji looks up at her and frowns, his baby face solemn, white eyes narrowed. He makes a great show of pulling his father's fancy golden watch from the pockets of his dark training suit, and proceeds to stare at it. Seconds tick by, audible because of the gizmo clutched in one fat hand. "You're late, Haruka," he says in all seriousness. "That's bad. It's three-three already." Neji holds the watch out for her inspection, as if to illustrate his point.

It reads three-thirty. Haruka was supposed to be back here at noon, scheduled to take over the care of the child after his father was deployed for another one of those reconnaisance missions that seem to be popping up more and more these days. Oops. At least Neji appears to have looked after himself.

Her cousin continues to stare, waiting for some sort of proper explanation. He even attempts to clear his tiny throat as a prompt, in the way that their uncle Hiashi sometimes does.

Little brat! He cannot even tell time correctly, and he is already telling her off? Shows just how closely related to the main family he is. Haruka tosses her dark hair back over her shoulder, adjusts her Leaf headband across her forehead and the cursed seal it bears, and then scoots closer to him. She has to be careful not to disturb the piles of paper and paper plates of multicolored ink he has got scattered about. _He must be drawing... I wonder what?_

The golden watch waggles in front of her face, shiny in the sunlight, and it jerks her away from her thoughts. She kowtows exaggeratedly. "Sorry, sorry. Missions sometimes run late, you know? That's part of being a ninja. By the way, does your father know you have that?" Haruka points to the timepiece, already foreseeing a less than pleasant end for the valuable thing at Neji's tiny hands.

Having now been sufficiently apologized to, Neji grins and tucks the shiny watch away. Haruka begins to think of ways to pick his pocket without being noticed. "Father said I could hold onto it why he's gone. 'Smine now."

"It's 'while' not 'why,'" Haruka corrects automatically. Neji is very bright for such a young child, but they are still working on his grammar. Aunt Hiroko has assured her that it's quite normal for a kid his age. What she should be worried about, she has been told, are the sudden silences he is prone to, which means he is either puzzling something out or is about to launch into a fit of rage. Fortunately, he does the latter very rarely. He is already strong, much tougher than she was at his age, and quite capable of causing damage.

Haruka glances at Neji's small hands and notices that they are black with ink. "You didn't answer me. What were you doing?" Neji has to entertain himself fairly often, and she is curious to know how her young charge spends his time when there is no one around to watch him. Hopefully, he stays out of trouble, because if he does not, Haruka can kiss what is left of her shinobi career goodbye. Much as she loves Neji, she is not ready to give up her friends and be a full time nursemaid.

Neji grabs a thick piece of paper and holds it up. "Drawing. See, that's Father, an' me, an' you, an' Aunt Hiroko, an' Uncle Hiashi, an' Grandmother. I didn't draw Grandfather, 'cause he's mean…" He pauses for a much needed breath and Haruka nods and tells him that his drawing is very pretty, although it is obvious he has no talent for art. All she can make out is his name in the top right corner. Neji Hyuga, with the first character written backwards.

Neji stands up, extraordinarily pleased with the praise he has been given, and reaches past his circle of tools for another picture to display. He grabs hold of the newest one, his masterpiece, and sits back down. His bottom slaps down on his plate of blue ink, the fabric immediately sucking the liquid up like a sponge, but he does not notice. Haruka cringes. Another pair of clothes ruined! How does this always happen? At least she does not have to pay for them, and Neji is not the sort of child to care when outfits mysteriously disappear from his bureau drawers.

"Haruka." Her name, spoken with an indignant tone, pulls her back to the task at hand. What were they doing? Oh yes, admiring Neji's amazing err, pictures. She squints at this one, trying to keep her face appropriately serious. What is that, a bloated toad fighting a weasel? Maybe she will borrow some of these to show her elite teammate Genma Shiranui. The young man is really good at drawing, and Haruka would be interested in his reaction.

"This is you an' that boy out front early…" Neji explains, unaware of the furor he is causing.

Haruka turns bright red, flushing all the way to her dark hairline. Damn that Genji Uchiha! Why did he have to be so good looking? And persuasive? Still, hidden as they were, she had not thought anyone could see them at the time. She is suddenly very glad that Neji is not a child prodigy when it comes to art. At least no one will be able to recognize her. "I didn't know your Byakugan was that good," she says through gritted teeth.

Neji finds his cousin's reaction hilarious, so he giggles and puckers his lips in an imitation of what he saw earlier. Life imitating art which imitated life.

Haruka lunges at him, but with her feet hanging off the porch she has no leverage, and Neji is surprisingly quick. By the time she makes it to her feet, he has taken off running and she has to chase him down the veranda. The nightingale floor sings beneath their flying feet, the wooden boards playing a frenzied theme song of carefree abandon. Old folks are disturbed from their midday siesta, young people are yelling at them to be quiet, and toward the back of the house a baby begins to cry. They do not stop.

For just a few moments, bare seconds really, they are free. It is the most wonderful feeling.

Haruka catches ahold of Neji at the entrance to the main hall and, using shoulders muscles long developed by archery and taijutsu, heaves him effortlessly up onto her hip. thus smearing blue paint onto her own clothing. Locked in her restrictive embrace, he struggles for a moment, child body wanting only to _go _again, before relaxing and allowing himself the rare sensation of being cuddled. Haruka gives him a little squeeze, a bear hug without the crushing pressure. "You are in so much-"

Trouble.

The front door rolls noisily open, and the head of the clan, Hiashi, stands there glaring at them. His stern white gaze momentarily softens, however, when it falls upon the cherub faced Neji. Hiashi genuinely likes his nephew, and hopes that one day he will have a little son like him. The muttered greeting of his eldest niece brings him back to business. "Haruka, we are having a meeting. Keep him quiet, or take him somewhere else."

Haruka bows low, nearly dropping Neji in her fright. The child tries unsuccessfully to wrap his legs around her slim waist, and instead threads his fat fingers into her white shirt in an attempt to stay upright. He observes both adults with curiosity. What exactly is going on here? Why is his favorite cousin so nervous? Doesn't she realize that Hiashi is almost the very same as Neji's own father, and hence a perfectly normal and acceptable person?

Hiashi catches Neji watching him, feels another almost parental surge of affection for the boy. "And you, Neji, be good and this time next year my daughter Hinata can come play with you."

Neji nods seriously and then smiles at his uncle's retreating back. The thought of a new playmate, one closer to his age, makes him very happy. Now, he wonders, how long is a year? His next birthday, maybe? That would be so neat, to get a friend for a birthday present!

As the door rolls shut behind Hiashi with a click of finality, Haruka hugs Neji closer and buries her nose in his sweet smelling ebony hair. In order to play with the clan's heir and continue living, Neji will have to undergo the traditional sealing by curse mark. By this time next year, her tiny cousin's smooth blank forehead will resemble her own.

Haruka can only hope all ends well.

* * *

_Thanks goes out to everyone reading this. It's an amazing stress reliever, and the reviews have been nice. I promise there's more Tenten to come, and maybe baby Neji will reappear._


	14. Heartbroken: Hinata's mother

_Author's notes: This one's a depressing story about Hinata's mother. Sorry about the incest, but I figured it made sense here. And I tried to do it tastefully, if there is such a thing. Let me know what you think._

**Heartbroken**

Hisa Hyuga's whole life has been planned out since before her birth. She has always done as she has been told, believing with a great innocence that her elders and the clan in general have her best interestes at hear. She has never really questioned her life- simply accepted it- and her faith in those said family members has never wavered, even as one tragedy after another has befallen her. That is her way, one calmer and gentler than most. And yet-

Hisa sinks weakly onto the silken cushion provided by her maid. Before her is a low wooden table, and weighted down upon it is a scroll of rich, heavy paper. The material is nearly blank; Yesterday- when she had first decided to chronicle her life for her small, estranged daughter Hinata- she had managed nothing more than the opening paragraph before being seized by a horrible pain in her chest. The pain is still there today, a dull ache that becomes more acute with movement or the crying she has so lately been prone to, but Hisa is determined to finish her work.

Reaching for the slender writing brush, Hisa notes that her hands are trembling. She will not be able to write with any sort of grace; Her mother-in-law, Masako, would be absolutely mortified if she could see the calligraphy about to pour from the woman's hand.

_What does that matter? She isn't your mother-in-law anymore..._

Hisa swallows the lump in her throat, and begins to write.

* * *

When Hisa's mother conceived and visited the Hyuga family doctor, the old man had smiled knowingly and called in the family astrologers. These three wise men had wasted no time in calculating the precise date of her birth, and from there they mapped out her entire future on one thick piece of paper. Genealogies were drawn up, backgrounds checked all the way to antiquity. Her parents were subjected to test after rigorous test: physical endurance, blood typing, chakra testing, and more. To the delight of all involved, they passed them every single one.

After being reveiwed by the clan elders, the compiled documents were labelled _Of the Highest Priority_, and sent to the clan head. The esteemed leader himself had read them twice, and taken a week to consider the implications. Then he had called a meeting. "Are you sure?" Hideyoshi had asked, eyeing his subordinates with a calculated measure of disbelief. "There can be no mistake?" He had never been one to put faith in omens and oracles, but this business did need to be attended to, and these superstitious old fools had done half the work for him.

"None, Lord. It's meant to be." The head of the cadet brance, Hirohito, had bowed low over the polished wooden table and struggled to hide his smile. The child in question, who would be born his niece, would be perfect for the main family's needs. He would make sure of it.

Hideyoshi had frowned at the man's foolishness and then nodded, shuffling the papers and effectively ending the meeting. "Very well then. If the child is indeed born on the day you say, and if it is indeed a girl, then the arrangements will be made."

Months had passed, the time full of anticipation; Of all the births that year, this was arguably the one most joyously awaited, even more so than that of the gravid Lady Masako, who was carrying for the second time. Near the end of her pregnancy, Hisa's mother developed a strange dark line down the center of her swollen abdomen, and the astrologers said that this too was considered a favorable sign. In early spring, to the satisfaction of the wise men and happiness of the family, the female Hisa was born on the very day they predicted.

And that is how Hisa found herself engaged to her very distant cousin Hiashi, heir to the clan leadership.

* * *

"Lady? Are you all right?" The sound of her maid's voice brings Hisa back to reality. How long has she sat before this table, staring at the paper before her? How long has she has she been frozen in place, the ink-black strokes of her ex-husband's name reflected in her white, wet eyes? What a strange tableu this must be. No wonder the maid is observing her with something akin to panic.

Hisa carefully lays the brush across the porcelain holder, notes without feeling the ink staining the table to the right of the paper. The dark puddle is smeared; She has probably dipped her long kimono sleeve into it, effectively ruining the garment. Not that it matters. Nothing matters, as long as this letter to her child is safe. "I'm sorry, Kiyone, I was thinking. What was your question?"

The maid bows and latches onto the doorframe for support. She has served Hisa since the young woman was a teenager, and never thought to be in this mess. "We've almost finished packing, my Lady. But there is a messenger from Lord Hideyoshi here, and he has been instructed to- um- to take your wedding kimono. He says- forgive me, Lady, I'm so sorry- he says that you never paid for it, and it isn't yours. Not now, anyway. Should we unpack it?"

"Please do," Hisa murmurs, turning back to her paper. She should be upset about this latest indignity, but she feels nothing at all.

Except for that peculiar pain in her chest.

* * *

There were, of course, some people who did not agree with the betrothal of Hiashi and Hisa. Some whispered of incest, some claims were made that they would produce inferior offspring, or even none at all. Mostly these were the opinions of other villagers; No one inside the Hyuga household itself paid the notions any heed. All of those issues had been examined by the family physcians, had been tested previously. And anyway, it was a clan tradition that every few generations the line was bred back to itself, just to ensure the bloodline traits did not filter out.

Hisa's mother gave up any rights to her almost immediately, convinced that she was providing her daughter with the opportunity for a better future. Her father named her Hisa, using the character for 'endurance,' and hoped that she would be strong enough for whatever life had in store for her. Then- after her first hour of life in this world- Hisa's parents had handed her to a nurse whose job was to rear her away from their attachments. From the moment of her birth, Hisa was already, for all intents and purposes, Hiashi's wife. Although her parents were a part of the household, Hisa never really spent time with them again.

Once Hisa was weaned and of an age to learn, she was turned over to Lady Masako, her mother-in-law-to-be, and raised to be a matriarch herself. Deportment was the only thing she ever studied, the only thing they ever allowed her to study. There was no ninja training for young Hisa, although her white eyes meant she was capable of the Byakugan, and perhaps more; What clan head needed a wife like that? She learned how to please her husband, how to be gracious, and how to be forgiving and kind, although these last might have always been a part of her nature.

Masako was not like a mother to Hisa. Instead, the Lady was more of crazed tutor, desperate to instill her own lofty samurai ideals in the young girl and turn her into the perfect wife for her son Hiashi. Although she was often brusque and ocassionally abusive, Hisa found that she could not blame the older woman. Masako genuinely loved her five children, and wanted the very best for them, even at the expense of others. That blind, almost obsessive devotion was inspiring, but Hisa vowed that when her own children came- as undoubtedly they would- she would do it better.

The years passed quickly, a blinding pattern of parties and cottilions, of grueling lessons and demonstrations of things learned. Hisa was too busy to be lonely.

When Hisa was twenty-three years old, a woman grown, she married the newly-installed Lord Hiashi in what was considered _the _wedding of the decade. Guests came from all across the Land of Fire and beyond. Both the retired Third Hokage Hiruzen Sarutobi and the present Fourth Hokage Minato Namikaze had attended, and the kindly Third had even kissed her on the cheek. Later that year, girls had their wedding kimono copied from the grand one that she wore. It was the happiest day of Hisa's life. And why not? She had never known anything else, had nothing to compare it to.

Although their wedding had been arranged without their consent or influence, Hisa and Hiashi had always known each other and been aware of their destiny. Deeply ingrained rules and courtesies helped them through the first days, but they were friends and were soon comfortable with their union. For the young bride at least, affection quickly turned to a deep love. The two were happy, and everyone was happy for them. This, the astrologers had said, was fated. And the clan was on the rise.

* * *

"My Lady?" Kiyone's voice once again is the catalyst for Hisa's thoughts- her mind had been frozen, thinking over the happiness of those early days. Now she blinks her white eyes, and one or two tears roll down her pale cheeks to plop unceremoniously onto the silk of her kimono. Sitting there, Hisa looks like some religious devotee called back to wakefullness after a holy vision. Swallowing hard, she calls for Kiyone to enter, and her voice cracks with dehydration and, more particularly, emotion.

Kiyone slides open the door and slips inside to kneel upon the still green tatami. The mats had been changed at New Years, just a few months prior. How strange, that after so many years spent in these quarters, she and her mistress were never to see them again? "We've done as you said, my Lady. We unpacked your- the kimono in question, and handed it over to Lord Hideyoshi's messanger. We've just recieved a letter from your hus- from Lord Hiashi; he says he has a meeting, so sorry, and so will not be able to see you off."

Hisa nods gently, the movement sending waves of pain throughout her body. There is no room inside her aching chest for bitterness; She had expected this much, this last betrayal from the man who was her husband, and has already accepted it. Instead, she asks the only question that matters now: "My children?"

Kiyone shakes her head slowly, feeling sorry that she must be the one to deliver this unfortunate bit of news. What must she have done in a previous life, that she must now tell this good woman, her mistress, this last insult? "I'm sorry, my Lady, but they will not be able to say goodbye to you. It is midday right now; Little Hinata is at school, and baby Hanabi has been put down for her afternooon nap. She's on a strict schedule, and the Lady Masako has ordered that she not be disturbed."

They neither one say anything. How could a mother be considered a disturbance where her child was concerned?

After an interminable wait, Kiyone bows her head to the floor. She cannot stand the sight of the tears streaming from Hisa's white eyes, does not like the look of the pain and fevered desperation she sees there. Her voice is little more than a whisper. "We've finished the packing, my Lady, and all the preparations have been made. We can leave whenever you wis- I mean, whenever you are ready."

"Of course," Hisa chokes out, finally lifting a hand to blot at her tears- it would be a shame if they stained her work, ruined this last and most important testament to her daughters. She carefully lifts up her brush and swirls it in the ink, feeling pain now in every part of her body. Hisa knows that she must hurry now, and her dismissal of Kiyone is distracted. "I must finish this. I'm almost done. And then we will go."

"Yes, Mistress."

Hisa does not hear the door slide shut.

* * *

True to her duty, Hisa became pregnant almost immediately, and there was much rejoicing. With a baby growing strong inside her belly, an heir that could one day even become Hokage, the great family's continued legacy was assured.

And then it all went wrong. Hisa never figured out exactly what happened, for she had taken such great care, but she lost her baby. And the next two, and the one after them. Four times in the same span of years the children slipped from her uterus, dead before they could even be born. Each time Hiashi looked at her with an expression that she found frightening and unreadable. "Next time," Hisa whispered to herself, her small hand resting over her empty womb. "Next time."

And then, after a whole year when there was not even the slightest stirring of life inside of her, Hisa announced that she was pregnant again. Word went quickly around the compound, hushed. Hideyoshi, upon hearing, had merely grunted and returned his attention to his game of shogi. Masako had muttered something about it taking so long. Hiashi had simply sighed, and continued signing paperwork. And everyone else turned away, positive that it was just another loss in the making. No one believed in her, or the baby she carried.

Hisa proved them wrong. For more than nine months she carried her child, through the near-ending of the world at the paws of the demon fox, through the death of one Hokage and the re-ascension of another, and then one cold December morning she gave birth to the most beautiful little girl anyone could ask for. They called her Hinata, for she was a good child with a sunny disposition, and she and Hiashi were happy again. Of course, Hisa had never doubted that this would be so. This life was what she had been born for, been reared for. After all, it was destined. The heavens themselves had decreed it.

And yet, those very people who had forced her into this life and made her into what she was, they had all turned away. No longer did they support her, serve her, or whisper prayers for her health and happiness. Some even said that her daughter Hinata would prove weak and unable to lead the clan. Hisa ignored their muttered words and pitying glances, and gracefully pretended that everyone was as kind and eager for her favor as they had always been. Everything would turn out all right, it just had to.

Perhaps Hiashi listened to the many murmured opinions and decided Hinata was unfit to rule- word had it that Hideyoshi was against the the budding child- or maybe he began longing for a son because his own twin brother's child was turning out to be so exceptional. Perchance the sacrifice of that same brother drove him over the edge. Hisa never knew for sure, but her husband's interest in her and their daughter began to wane, and although he hid it under the heavy workload a clan head must attend to, she knew down in the depths of her aching heart that he did not care for her anymore.

It was the most painful thing, this knowledge that your husband did not want you. Hisa knew the only way she could win back his affection, his friendship, was to have a son, a better heir than her darling Hinata. Of course, it was hard to conceive when Hiashi only visited her bed once a week, more out of ritual and physical need- for he was completely faithful to her, that much she was sure- than any sort of desire. Hisa's already small world shrunk to two things: the winning back of her husband through the conception of another child, and the mothering of little Hinata.

Five long years passed, with no sign of a baby, either boy or girl. Hisa began to grow desperate; She was aging, after all, passing thirty and leaving her best child-bearing years behind. Furthermore, Hiashi must have felt it an excercise in futility, for her came to her bed less and less, and though she tried to please him, she was sure he sometimes left before spilling his seed into her womb. After those failed sexual encounters, an ashamed Hisa would sneak into the nursery to sit with little Hinata. "Next time," she would whisper, stroking her sleeping daughter's smooth forehead. "Next time I will give you a little brother. I must."

And then came Hanabi, every bit as beautiful as her sister. Hanabi, who was stronger than Hinata from her very first breath, who was loud and brash even as a baby. Hanabi who was, to the misfortune of all, not a boy. Hiashi dawdled the child briefly in the nursery, looked her over and smiled, but when it came time for him to do his duty and check upon the new mother, to thank her for this latest addition to his household, he simply frowned and walked away. The servants wasted no time in spreading the cruel news, and they did not even spare the bedridden Hisa.

One week later, after Hisa'd had the most frightful row with Hideyoshi- her first and only fight with anyone- Hiashi came to her and said he wanted a divorce.

* * *

Hisa pauses there, unsure of what to add. She has been very careful througout this narrative, done her best to keep it in terms her children will be able to understand. Mostly she has focused upon her feelings, and tried to be unbiased. Her babies can make up their minds when they are old enough; Of course, Hinata had actually been home during that fight, had seen and heard the things her grandfather Hideyoshi had threatened. Hopefully she had comprehended little. Hanabi, too, had been present, but the infant was far too young to know what had occured then.

Just as Hisa decides to close the letter with her love, the shoji door slams open, startling her. Hisa drops the brush, and ink splatters all over her biography. Staring at the dark spots marring the paper, making the untidy handwriting nearly impossible to read, Hisa knows that she will never have the strength- or the time- to chronicle this all again. In what could be her last words to her children, she has failed. Dropping her silky head into her hands, she begins to sob.

Kiyone stands in the doorway, watching her mistress with frightened eyes. She has never seen Hisa so undone, not even after the signing of the divorce papers. The woman looks mad; she has obviously been crying throughout this whole ordeal, and it has wrecked her fair complexion, turning her skin a mottled red. Worse, her beautiful raven hair, which had been cut to mid-back after Hanabi's birth, is matted and tangled. The lovely kimono she'd been dressed in this morning is rumpled, and stained with both ink and tears. And all this over a letter?

"My Lady, I'm so sorry to bother you, but it's dusk now. Lord Hideyoshi is very angry that we haven't left yet. I overheard him say that if you- I mean we- aren't gone by the time the sun goes down he would come out and throw you- us- from the compound by force. So sorry, but I believe he means to do it. I don't know what is taking you so long, but we must leave. We can be across town before the light goes completely. Come on, let me help you clean yourself up-"

"No!" Hisa screams, leaping to her numb feet and knocking over the table as she does so. Ink flies everywhere, splattering across the room like blood from a wound. It covers Kiyone, who is advancing cautiously upon her hysteric mistress, intent on helping in anyway she can, and sprays the crazy maid Chiyo, who has just entered the room attracted by the noise. The three women stare at one another with wide eyes, unable to comprehend what has happened; For once in her life, Hisa has stood up for herself.

Hisa had never before done anything, save what she had been told, what had already been planned for her. Her life had not been her fault, first all those poor dead babies, and then her girls. Although painful, those things had all been ordained, her family themselves had once believed in it. So why would no one now stand up for her? Why did they not realize that, given the time, she and Hiashi could be happy again? Why were they trying to force her out of her own home?

Hisa cannot feel her legs- perhaps she had sat too long, hadn't Kiyone said it was dusk?- but she is sure they are trembling. That lancing pain shoots through her chest again, seems to spread to every single part of her. Suddenly, Hisa cannot breathe, begins to hyperventilate. One hand flies to her heaving breast, the other to her throat as though she can somehow stop the aching. She is still crying, will cry forever. Between ragged gasps, she manages to call for her daughters.

"They can't come to you," Chiyo stats flatly. Kiyone shoots the older woman a glare, knowing that she is doing more harm than good, and then turns back to Hisa. She holds her arms out, desperately trying to soothe her mistress. Hisa continues to back away from them, her face contorted and whole body shaking. Chiyo's words finally filter into her mind, and she gives a low moan, liking the keening of a dying animal. And then her eyes roll back into her head, and she crumples to the floor like a broken doll.

"Oh my- Chiyo, go get help!" Kiyone is by Hisa's side instantly, small panicked hands reaching for a pulse. Prodding her mistress' delicate neck, she finds none. "Oh no, oh no, oh no..."

Chiyo has not moved, merely crossed her arms and cocked her head to the side. "Is she dead? Perhaps she was poisoned? Maybe the baby messed her up?"

Kiyone shakes her head, for once struck silent by her grief. Her mistress, Hisa Hyuga, is dead, killed by a broken heart. She was thirty-three years old.


	15. Violation: Hinata and Hanabi

_Author's notes: This one's pretty dark, with rape being discussed. Read at your own discretion, and I'll try to make the next chapter a happier one. Feedback is appreciated. Thanks._

**Violation**

Hinata quietly shuts the door of the small changing room and leans against it, smiling secretly to herself. At twenty years old, she has blossomed into a beautiful, accomplished young lady, heir to the leadership of her famous clan. She has also become a capable kunoichi, recognized even beyond the borders of Fire Country. But all of that takes second place in Hinata's mind. If asked, she would define herself as a woman well loved.

_And more than once tonight_, she thinks, giving a small giggle that seems to echo in the empty room. She had left her boyfriend Naruto Uzumaki snoring loudly in the middle of his bed a few moments before, and returned home undetected, mostly out of fear of her stern father. The rest of the family could say what they liked now. Hinata, personally, felt that they should just be happy for her. It was not every day that someone from clan Hyuga netted a Hokage, and it was probably the first time it had ever been done out of love.

"Naruto," Hinata whispers happily, slowing removing her heavy robes. She folds each one carefully and places them inside a basket designed for just that purpose sitting on a shelf next to her. Then, when she stands naked in the center of the room, she takes a delicate silver hair pin and pulls up her long, thick raven hair, bundling it on top of her head. She checks her image in the mirror (here, in the main household's ladies' changing room, they are allowed to have one), just to make sure no strands have been forgotten. Perfect.

After grabbing a fluffy white towel from a nearby shelf, Hinata crosses the small room and opens the frosted glass sliding door. As she does so, an ancient clock hanging out in the hall strikes midnight. She will have to bathe quickly, ridding herself of evidence of the nights' lovemaking, and get to her bed. In the morning, she is scheduled to help her father with some overdue paperwork, and sit in on one of his meetings with the elders.

Hinata steps carefully into the ladies' bathroom and the high humidity takes her breath away. The air is hot and thick, and as she reaches backward to shut the door her small hand slips off of the handle and slides across the window, leaving a wet streak that lasts but a moment. Not that it would even have been visible to her. Through the copious fog, she can barely see anything.

_Why is it so hot in here? _Hinata wonders at the reason while trying once more with the door. The second attempt succeeds, sealing off the bathroom and leaving her to her thoughts. Her older cousin Neji had once confided that their grandfather Hideyoshi bathed in this manner, the water scalding and the air like a heavy blanket, but the ladies' bath had never, ever been this unbearable. Perhaps her grandsire, with his failing eyesight which he refused to either discuss or come to terms with, had entered this room by mistake. Or maybe the underground furnace was broken.

"Hello?" Hinata calls timidly, standing at the edge of the room and holding her hands in front of her in the old familiar habit. The towel shields her loins from view, but she is not reassured by that. "Is anyone in here?" She had really wanted to bathe by herself. What if someone could tell what she had spent her evening doing? While Hinata is not ashamed of her actions, she would really feel embarrassed if someone were to ask about them. She decides that if anyone answers, she will just leave and come back early in the morning.

No one replies, but Hinata is not at all convinced. She uses the family's secret technique and sends chakra surging outward from her body into a wide radius. She is not as talented as her father, or even Neji, when it comes to this art, but she can certainly reach across the bathroom and _feel_ for anyone who might be in hiding. A second later, she brushes against a person. There is a contact dead ahead, and as she activates her Byakugan and focuses her strengthened gaze that direction, she realizes someone is sitting on the tiled rim of the bathtub, quite still.

Hinata is relieved to see the person is female, and she lays her towel upon a nearby stole before moving closer, curious as to the identity of this late night bather. Crossing the warm tile, stepping around the small drains set into the floor, she surprised to see her younger sister's smooth and pale back. "Hanabi?" Hinata really wants to ask why her baby sister is not in bed, getting the sleep that a growing young body needs, but she refrains. Ever since she was reinstated as heir a little while ago, Hanabi has been different, like she has lost something very important. Maybe she has.

_I took away her identity..._

"Go away," Hanabi hisses, her whole body visibly tensing. There is a small splash of water as the young woman moves her dangling legs, curling in upon herself, and Hinata thinks that she hears a sad hitch in the teenager's voice. The thought is disturbing, for the tough-as-nails Hanabi has shown little emotion throughout her years, never reacted with anything but occasional anger, and it nags at Hinata. Something is wrong here, very wrong. If only her sister would let her help...

"Hanabi, are you o-okay?" Hinata has not stuttered in a long time, but when she is confronted with her sister's vehemence, her composure slips just a little. Taking a few more steps into the oppressive room, all the while trying to get a better look, she asks once more. "Are you sure you're alright?"

Hanabi panics when she realizes that her sister is behind her, but she uses all of her training not to show it. Instead, she adopts a scathing tone, and does not even give the older girl the courtesy of speaking face to face. Perhaps rudeness will dissuade the other female, maybe drive her off. "I'm fine, now just go away. I don't need your help, I never have. I don't need you at all." She stresses the last few words, slowly and clearly, as if her sister is some sort of idiot.

Hinata almost listens to Hanabi, an instinctive reaction built out of long years of habit. She almost follows her earlier plan and leaves- has her foot off the floor even, ready to turn- but she has a kind heart and cannot bear the thought of anyone hurting, no matter what they have said to her. So she does the opposite, and comes forward to stand by Hanabi's side in the hopes that she can comfort the girl. What she sees then both shocks and disgusts her.

At fifteen, her sister's body is long and lanky in the ways of a girl just coming into womanhood. Smooth legs stretch on forever, resembling those of a young colt, and thanks to her strict ninja training, there is not an ounce of fat on the girl. Her hips are only slightly wider than the rest of her, still broadening, and budding breasts are just beginning to fill out. Hanabi is young, and innocent. So why is there an old washcloth stained with bright red blood pressed between her creamy thighs?

"Hanabi, what happened to you? Did someone hurt you? Are you alright?" Hinata is all horrified concern. Unthinkingly, she reaches for the rag in order to get a better look, and as her hand nears the sacred spot of curly dark hair, Hanabi slaps it sharply away. The sound is muffled in the foggy room, like something from a dream, but the pain Hinata feels is real. She clutches the stinging appendage, mind whirling, and settles for simply watching her sister.

_Oh gods, please just let it be her first menstruation._

Ignoring her, Hanabi matter-of-factly dips the cloth into the scalding water of the bathtub, wrings it out, and places it back over the injured area. As the first wave of hot pain fades, she focuses on the difficult task of running off her sister. "Don't you have, you know, leadership things to go do? I- I'm fine." The girl tilts her head back and stares at the tiled ceiling, a hazy mist swimming before her pearl eyes. She is not sure whether she is seeing fog or tears, but being Hanabi, she settles on the former.

Hinata sees one single drop roll unchecked down the girl's flawless cheek. "Hanabi..."

Hanabi blinks rapidly, her intense gaze still focused upon the low ceiling. Her next words, whispered in a low and throaty voice that her sister has never heard before, chill Hinata to the bone. "Anyway, I'm doing much better than he is." The girl gives a small, hurt-filled smile, and turns her head away. Hinata, staring at the back of that dark head, realizes that she is well and truly crying now, and that scares her. She has never seen Hanabi weep.

"He, who?" Hinata is almost too afraid to ask.

Hanabi whirls suddenly to face her, eyes reddened and practically shouting. "Do you really want to know? Are you sure?" Why is it that her sister cannot just leave her alone? It is not like they are friends or anything. She lowers her voice, modulating it so the loud echos do not bounce back, but the anger remains. "Fine then, I'll tell you. Not everything in this world is just perfect like you seem to think it is."

_She's hurt, and furious. She doesn't mean what she is saying... _Hinata ignores the biting comments and waits anxiously for her sister to continue.

Hanabi takes a deep breath and stares into her lap, pretending to be focused on what is occurring there. "You remember my teammate, Ryu?"

Hinata does, but only vaguely. After she was made the heir apparent, Hanabi was allowed to become a ninja for the village, and not just the family. The girl had walked into a class of graduates at the academy, and flawlessly performed the jutsu that was their final exam that year. Then, although Hanabi had had no training beyond what their father had given her, she was placed on a team of genin roughly her age that had recently lost their third member. Two months ago, she had become a chunin.

Since the family had never met Hanabi's new teammates, and Hyuga were always curious when it came to outsiders, Hiashi had invited them to dinner a while back. Hinata remembered two normal looking boys. Both had good manners, and decent looks, but they were not from famous clans with blood line traits, and no one really had expected them to excel. A sudden, sickening thought grips Hinata: What if they had taken out some sort of adolescent anger on her sister? Damaged her pride in the way that only men could do? "Ryu did this to you?" Hinata simply cannot believe it.

Hanabi shakes her head, the movement causing her medium length hair to slide over her shoulders and hide her face from view. Hinata gets a brief glimpse before that moon-like visage is gone, and she does not like what she sees. Hanabi has stopped crying by now, but Hinata thinks she sees a glint of madness in the girl's eyes. Hanabi goes on. "No, I went to his house for dinner. His older brother was there, and he asked me if I wanted to go see the fireworks." Here she pauses, gives a little derisive snort. "The fireworks, right? How dumb could I have been?"

"Oh, Hanabi- Hanabi, you aren't stupid. You couldn't have known that he would-" Would what? Hinata has seen the evidence and heard enough of her sister's testimony to give herself an idea, but she still feels in denial, and probably will until the final sickening and sordid details come out. How could this horrible thing have happened? And to Hanabi, off all people? Hinata moves to touch her sister, but the teenage girl scoots away, grimacing at the pain in her nether regions.

"He was good looking, and he seemed nice, so I went. We decided to sit by one of the bridges, because I like the way the fireworks look reflecting off the water." Hinata knows what her sister means, for she likes that too. Maybe they have more in common then they ever thought. What a shame they have waited this long to find out, have made such a mess of their lives.

Hanabi's voice drops to a whisper, and Hinata has to strain to hear her incoherent sentences. "Only, he pulled me under the bridge. He's a jonin- did you know that? I didn't, not then. I tried to scream, but I couldn't, and he held me down, and-" She gasps and stops, shaking and unable to continue. A few moments later, while Hinata struggles to process the girl's story, the young woman adds one final plea. "Please, please don't tell Dad."

At that moment, Hinata would have promised anything to that would give her baby sister some peace. Although she feels her father must know, that the perpetraitor of this awful crime must be brought to justice, it is not her secret to divulge, so she swears to the ruined girl. "I won't," she whispers. "I won't tell him. I promise."

This time when Hinata reaches out, Hanabi turns toward her and lays her soft head against Hinata's white breast. Hinata holds the violated girl for a long while, embracing her tightly and trying to erase the dark memories. Time losses all of its meaning in that foggy bathroom, and they sit there, sharing each other's pain, apologizing without words for everything they have ever done to one another. This is what sisterhood is like, and it is both the most wonderful and terrible thing.

Later, when the raging emotions have ebbed, and the bathroom has begun its cooling, Hinata eases her grip on Hanabi, leaning away so that she can more easily view her sister's lower abdomen. "You should have that looked at. He- he might have done some damage."

Hanabi shakes her head, and one silky ebony strand slips into her face. She is calmer now, almost back to her old self. Or as close to it as she will ever be again. "It'll be all right," she whispers, pulling the soiled cloth from between her long legs and holding it up to the light. "See, the bleeding's already stopped." The girl stands up slowly, steps back out of the tub with Hinata's help, and gingerly reaches for a nearby towel.

_Anyway, I'm doing much better than he is_. Hanabi's earlier words come back to Hinata's mind, and the older woman looks away as her sister wraps her bruised body up. It is obvious that her teammate's brother had taken great pains to put Hanabi out of action. The thought of her sister, lying there helpless, wracks Hinata. She does not blame the girl for anything, but she must know. "Hanabi, what happened. To Ryu's brother, I mean?"

"Oh." The girl frowns, brushes her damp hair out of her still swollen eyes. They take on a far away look as she drifts back to those dark moments. "He- he finished, and stood up and turned around. I guess he had to zip himself up or something. I didn't really want to look. But I got up, and I hit him."

Hinata knows what is coming next, can sense the words before they even leave her sister's mouth. She really does not want to hear it. Does the injustice done to her sister merit the punishment that has been dealt? She will not be the one to decide, that will be someone else, a jury of peers. No, Hinata does not want to hear this, but she cannot close her ears to it, either.

"He must have been pretty out of it- or something- because I hit him, right in heart. He's dead, Hinata. And I'm so glad."


	16. Revelation: Hizashi

_Author's notes: Thank you for all the reviews. I love them, you guys are great. Chapters might be posted a little slower now, but I am in no way done with this story. There's still a whole lot I want to write about. That said, this one's about Neji's parents._

**Revelation**

It is a sweltering July evening, the orange disk of the sun slowly sinking behind the tall wooden buildings on Tea Avenue, when Hizashi Hyuga steps into a small but well known barbecue restaurant. Just returned from a long mission, he is very hungry and even more eager not to go home, so he takes a seat in a dark corner booth and orders the biggest plate of pork the place has to offer, plus one very large bottle of sake. Tuning out the background chatter, he concentrates on eating and drinking far too much. Hizashi almost hopes that he gets drunk.

This past mission was a hard one. With the great wars going on, shinobi were seeing things they otherwise would not: everyday civilians murdered, foreign citizens enslaved, women raped, children orphaned, homes burned to the ground, entire villages reduced to nothing but dust. Hizashi has seen a lot of things in the past week that he would love to forget. Going home and reporting them all to his older brother and the council elders is not high on his priority list. Maybe if he just sits here a little while longer, nursing the rice wine, Hiashi will be asleep when he arrives.

He orders another bottle. And then another.

After a long time, a man who is probably the manager comes up to him and asks if they could please have the booth for a large group that has just arrived. Hizashi is tempted to tell him no, for he has been paying this restaurant very well, and he ought to be able to sit any damn where he pleases, when he notices the old clock hung high on the wall. It is already ten, past the usual lights out time for his family. It should be safe to head on home now. "Of course. I'm done anyway." He lays the money upon the table while the man bows humbly, then staggers toward the door.

The man, worried he might fall, hurries after him. "Sir, are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Hizashi says, slurring his words ever so slightly. He is not really very drunk, he could not be that lucky. But he is nowhere near fine, never was, never will be.

The manager frowns, perhaps fearing a disturbance, and looks around quickly. He spots one of his waitresses pulling off her frilly apron in the darkened corner doorway that leads to the busy kitchen. When they meet eyes, he quickly waves to her, gesturing for her to join them. "Satsu! Come over here, please."

The girl sighs and wanders over, wrapping her traditional linen handbag tightly around her thin wrist and hoping the manager takes the hint. "Please, I was only scheduled until nine, I've already worked more than I should. And I've got things to do." She is not whining really, just exhausted and ready to leave. With the war going on, few ninja are bothering to cook for themselves, and business is through the roof. She has worked eleven hours today.

The doorbell up front chimes, and another group walks in. The manager welcomes them, then turns back to the girl and huffs loudly. "Look, I'm not asking you to stay longer. I was just wondering if you would help our guest to the door on your way out." The man smiles broadly at Hizashi, and then leans in and whispers to the girl, Satsu, "He's had a little more than he should. Probably some sort of post-traumatic stress."

Satsu looks him slowly up and down, making a great pretense of deciding, but in reality she has already made up her mind. If it would get her home tonight, she would walk the very devil out, let alone one tipsy man with strange white eyes. "All right, then. I'll see you tomorrow at three." She bows swiftly to the manager, then turns to Hizashi and puts one timid but steadying hand on his muscled arm. "Ready?"

Hizashi lets her lead him to the door, and it is a good chance to observe her. She is a typical female of Fire Country stock, with short dark hair, roughly one shade lighter than his, cut into a functional bob. Eyes are beautifully shaped, and are an honest, clear grey shade. Medium height and thin, but not drastically so, with a light tan and hands that have seen more than her share of work. Not a great beauty, especially compared to the women of his family, but she could be considered pretty if she smiled.

_Farm girl, here to make a little money, and then she will go home and marry some neighboring boy and have a huge brood of twelve. _Hizashi, whose whole life has been a never ending dance to far too many tunes, finds that he almost envies her such an uncomplicated existence. To be so simple and free, what must that be like? Of course, it is the ones like her who are dying by the thousands right now, victims in battles caused by people like him. That is something he does not resent.

"You're walking awfully steadily for someone who's drunk." Satsu glances up at him, curious, then looks back down and carefully steers them around a greasy puddle of something that has collected upon the floor. She has a nice voice, calm and sweet and not at all annoying. How long has it been since he had heard the voice of a woman who was not screaming in terror? Or wailing in grief? Far too long.

Hizashi looks away from her, disturbed by his thoughts. "Oh, I'm nowhere near as bad as I pretended to be," he replies, but his words sound a little strange. They reach the three stairs that go down into the low dirt entryway, and as Hizashi moves to step down he realizes he might actually be drunker than he thought. He somehow manages the stairs, but then they reach the bottom, and the world spins as he goes to lift his feet from the slippers provided by the establishment.

Satsu feels his unsteady shift. "Are you all right? Here, sit down and I'll get your shoes. These here, right?" She pulls the dark sandals from their cubby, and kindly helps him slip them on. Then she rolls the heavy wooden door open and turns around to face him, observing him in the dim glow of a hanging lantern. Warm air flows in, followed by the laughter of one late night passersby.

"Thank you." Pride forces Hizashi to struggle onto his feet, but he takes the small hand she offers and allows her to help him outside. The door rattles shut behind them, closed by someone from within, and it cuts off their nearest light source. Now they are at the mercy of the many streetlamps and the clear night's distant stars. The pair stands there in front of the restaurant for a long time, while Hizashi breathes in the fresh night air and waits for his head to clear. There is a gentle breeze blowing, aiding him in his recovery. He will soon be fine, so he turns toward the girl and says, "You don't have to stay."

Satsu turns to wish him goodnight, but is cut off by a loud crash from across the street. Both pairs of eyes dart in that direction just in time to see Tsume Inuzuka knock a second shinobi into a pile of crates stacked in an alleyway. The dog mistress throws back her head and laughs loudly, almost barking in her joy, and showing off large white canines in the process. When she spots Hizashi watching her, she grins a flirtatious invitation. "You're out late, Hizashi. You want to come home with me?"

"No thanks," Hizashi replies, feeling nervous. It has been a long time since his last sexual encounter- too long, by the standards of some- but he that does not mean he is ready to settle on the wild Tsume. It is very likely he would not have the stamina to keep up with her anyway, and she might just try to castrate him after the act. And if the family ever found out, especially his brother- No, it is not worth the risk at all. "Not tonight, Tsume."

The Inuzuka glances at Satsu, and the young woman takes a small step closer to Hizashi, putting him squarely between the two. Tsume gives her a thoughtful little smile that does not look at all kind, then shrugs her shoulders and throws one roguish wink at Hizashi. "Alright, suit yourself. The offer's open anytime, though."

Hizashi inclines his head in the graceful but noncommittal nod he has seen his mother and older brother use. When Tsume has gone on her way, singing some bawdy ditty for all the world to hear, he turns around to face the girl hiding behind him. "I thought you were going?"

"I'll stay," Satsu says, watching the two injured men crawl cursing out of the alley. Her grey eyes are wide and she sounds nervous.

Hizashi feels a flicker of compassion for her. He knows very well what it feels like to be scared and all alone. With a family like his, few friends, and only the ghosts of old comrades, he is often forlorn. Remembering her earlier kindness, when she had helped him to put on his sandals, he asks quietly, "Would you like me to walk you home?"

Satsu gives him an inquiring look as if to question his mental stability. By nature, she is a hardworking but uneducated person, calm and quiet and fairly practical, although she is prone to daydreaming. Years of disappointment with her life have lead her to err on the side of caution, and she does this now. "Do you think you can? You did have a lot to drink, and I won't be able to carry you if you pass out."

Hizashi's head is already feeling better. The time of rest, restorative air, and amazing physiology he was born with having done their work and removed most of the alcohol from his tired system. While not yet at one hundred percent, he has certainly carried out missions under worse conditions. Walking this girl across town will not be a problem for him. "If I pass out, you can leave me. I give you permission."

Satsu stares up at him, unsure. She has been warned about this, mostly by the girls that she lives with. It starts out innocently enough, with some guy offering to take you home, but it quickly turns into something else. The rumors of ruined girls are endless. But still… Hizashi gives her a reassuring smile that is little more than the lifting of the corner of his mouth, but she does not really make up her mind until another loud group of young men round the corner, catcalling at an Uchiha. "I share an apartment with some people from work back toward the main gate. I'd really appreciate it if you dropped me off."

"All right." Hizashi nods, glad that the girl will allow him to repay his debt. He watches as she pulls her too-tight shoes from her feet, hissing as they rub against her blistered heels. When she has them packed away into her bag, and has given her aching toes a little wiggle, she nods back at him, indicating her readiness to leave. Together, they set off down the dirty avenue.

* * *

After two full streets worth of silence, Hizashi attempts to make conversation. Not wanting to talk about himself, and interested in verifying his earlier hypothesis, he asks, "You're not from here, are you?"

Satsu shakes her dark head, emotion filming over her eyes. In a tiny voice, one laced with sorrow, she answers, "No, I was born on a farm far to the south. My father grew mostly cotton, plus a few other crops. And my mother grew the most beautiful flowers." She pauses in her narrative, looking down at the faded bag and its cords wrapped round her wrist, and then adds, "Sunflowers are my favorite."

Hizashi is not sure he even knows what a sunflower looks like. He would be willing to bet that some exist on the grounds of the family compound though. "That sounds nice," he replies, mostly because he does not know what else to say.

They pass a couple clinging passionately in a doorway, and Satsu abruptly asks him, "Are you married?" When he shakes his head no, a little stunned by her boldness, she whispers in a low voice, "I was supposed to be, last spring. He was a neighbor- twenty-one years old, one more than me- and we had lived next door all our lives. Our parents arranged it."

Hizashi does not know what to think. Here he had thought that her life was simple and free, and now she is telling him that she ran away from an arranged marriage? What other secrets does this girl hide? He is about to continue the interrogation when she goes on, voice cracking. "The _daimyo _called up some troops, and he was con-" Satsu chokes on the unfamiliar word. "He never came back."

Hizashi is not surprised that her tale mirrors some of his earlier thoughts. It is a story that is all to common in this era. Although the great battles of the time are already coming to be called the "Third Great Ninja War," it is the civilian populace that is involved in the largest and most pointless fights, many young men called away to be foot soldiers for their respective governments. Still, this is the first time he has heard a narrative by an actual victim, and the pain on Satsu's face is difficult to view. As her tears begin to fall, he digs frantically into his jonin vest for a handkerchief. "I'm sorry."

She takes the proferred cloth and wipes her eyes. "No, it's okay. We weren't in love or anything, but he was my friend, you know? We would have had a good life together. I didn't want him to die."

Hizashi nods, thinking that although he has never had anyone he cared about die, just maybe he can understand Satsu's anguish. His own twin brother, Hiashi, had been removed from him at the tender age of four, destined for great things, and Hizashi's life had never been the same. Was a missing brother as painful as a dead one? Does he even really want to know? Hizashi finally decides that no, he would rather have a live sibling, but the length of time it takes for him to make up his mind is frightening.

A deep silence falls between the pair, and they walk on, each lost to their own thoughts.

* * *

They pause roughly halfway to Satsu's apartment, stopping on a grassy bank next to one of the many clear streams that run through Konoha. Down below them, fireflies dance and flit near the darkened water, their lights reflected like a million tiny stars. Satsu has not seen anything so beautiful since she came to the village six months ago, and the sight heals her aching heart. She smiles and her face lights up, glowing with an intensity that puts the bugs to shame.

Watching her watch the beautiful scene before them, Hizashi feels an almost physical pain. It has been a long time since he has been out with a woman, a fact that the encounter with Tsume had only served to remind him, and Satsu is very pretty. Especially when she smiles. As she turns to him, he flicks white eyes toward the water, not wanting to be caught looking at her. Maybe, if he keeps his eyes averted, this building, fluttering feeling in his lower belly will go away.

"These fireflies aren't usually here," Satsu explains, gesturing around them with a hand that is still holding tightly to Hizashi's wrinkled handkerchief. "I walk past all the time, and I've never seen this before. Certainly not this many." When he does not answer, she frowns and peers up at him, her eyes reflecting starlight. In a concerned voice, she asks, "Is something wrong?"

"No," Hizashi replies urgently, trying his best to disguise the urgent need he is beginning to feel.

"Then why are you so unhappy?" Satsu is surprisingly perceptive, more so than some shinobi Hizashi has dealt with. Maybe she just has a feeling for people.

Oh, if only he had the time to tell her about everything that is wrong in his life, about the dark thoughts that have lately been clouding his mind. He doubts he will live another hundred years though, and he sees no reason to burden someone who has enough of their own troubles. So Hizashi settles for a lie, feeling an embarrassing tightening sensation in his loins that is not guilt. "I'm not unhappy. What makes you think I am?"

Satsu replies evenly, "No one drinks that much when they're happy. And only the saddest person couldn't summon a smile for that lovely view." She glances back toward the stream and the vista she had mentioned, grey eyes softening, the movement putting her gentle face in profile. Her full lips curve upward again, transforming her from the most plain creature into an attractive one.

"You're lovely," Hizashi blurts in a manner incredibly out of character for him, and he wonders if he should blame it on the alcohol. But no, he is pretty sure that it has entirely left his system by now. This is the similar effect of lust, or something like it. He is just not sure what, but as his body begins to respond he decides it does not matter. Quickly, he closes the distance between them.

"I-" Satsu has been called many things before, but none of those times sounded quite the same as the unexpected confession that just escaped her companion's lips. She does not know what to say in response, and she is further shocked when he leans forward and places those recently talkative lips tentatively upon hers. This has never happened to her before, and her honored mother's warning voice enters her mind. _Boys will say anything to get what they want. Don't trust them, and keep your legs together._

But Hizashi seems trustworthy, almost like a nervous child, and when he lifts one hand to the side of her face to brush her sable hair back she finds that it is shaking. Satsu decides that at the very least, he is handsome, and he is kissing her in a more insistent and welcome way. The dark night is warm around them, and they are all alone, and a strange heat is pooling in her lower belly. How far would she go to satisfy that strange desire?

When Hizashi breaks for air, and glances down toward her breasts, Satsu rises up on tiptoe and kisses him back.

* * *

Early that morning, just before the sun rises, Satsu arrives home and crawls into bed next to her friend. "Ami," she whispers loudly, and the other girl stirs. "I'm in love." Satsu smiles warmly and pulls the covers up over her still tingling flesh. "I'm in love and it's wonderful, but please don't tell anyone. It's a secret." It is so odd, how she wants to keep this wonderful feeling all to herself, and yet shout it to all the world. "I must be the luckiest person ever."

Her groggy older friend rolls over and buries her head deeper into the pillow. She has seen too many of these quick romances, knows how they all end, and would rather catch up on some much needed sleep. She just manages to mumble, "No, you're an idiot. Now, goodnight," before drifting back off.

* * *

Hizashi is tortured, wracked with guilt. That hot July night he stole the innocence of a good woman who was little more than a girl, laid her down out in the open as though she were some cheap ware for the taking. Never mind that he now thinks he is in love with her, that he has definitely grown to care for her in a way he never felt about other women. His esteemed family will never allow them to be together, and Hizashi knows he must break it off.

But how? The Hokage soon provides him with an excuse.

One cool October evening, as they lie entwined in the dying grass, breathing heavily after a long round of lovemaking, he murmurs into Satsu's cropped hair that he is being sent away on a special assignment. "I can't tell you where I'm going, and I won't be back for a month." It is the truth, for he has long since left off lying to her. What he does not say, what he cannot bring himself to say, is that when he returns he will not see her anymore, that his family is currently searching for a well-bred wife for him.

Satsu pulls abruptly away from him, shivering as the chill air hits her sweaty body. Although Hizashi does not voice the awful, final words, she hears them just the same. She has always been able to read others well, and she knows it is over- they are over. Trying to hold back the burning tears, she reaches for her grass stained dress, begins to pull it on. Her mother's words, disregarded so long ago, come once more to mind: _Boys will say anything to get what they want. Don't trust them, and keep your legs together._

Hizashi watches her leave with half-closed eyes. He knows he has hurt her, added to the great pain she has already felt in her young life, but it is for their own good. His and hers.

* * *

Hizashi returns one night in late November, stepping slowly through Konoha's barely opened main gate and saluting the shinobi on duty. He is tired, sore and battle weary, in no mood to go and make a report. For once in his life, he just wants to go home. Waving goodbye to his other comrades, all of whom have miraculously come back alive this time, he turns to make his way toward the Hokage's tower, feeling depressed.

And Satsu is there, waiting for him. Standing in the high wall's shadow, grey eyes reflecting the light of the rising sickle moon, is the girl he loves. She is wrapped thoroughly against the cold, wearing a borrowed coat two sizes too big, but Hizashi thinks that she has never appeared more beautiful. Not even during their most intimate moments, when he had abandoned himself to the unfamiliar sensations of love and freedom... But he is not allowed to think that anymore, and he had better go.

Satsu rushes toward him, and before Hizashi can hurry away, she grabs his arm in a needy embrace, fingers curling into his navy sleeve. "I need to talk to you."

"Can this wait?" Hizashi asks impatiently, wanting only to escape. Her touch is bringing back memories he had better forget, especially now that the family had a betrothal in sight. Hizashi knows it would be wrong to become a husband whose mind was consumed by a woman not his wife. He steps back, white eyes turning toward the distant tower, and attempts to shrug her off.

Satsu knows that if she lets Hizashi leave, she will never have another chance to tell him. And she had better tell him, for she is running out of time. Near as she can tell, one precious month has already vanished from her calendar. "I'm sorry, but it can't. It's important. Please." She is nearly begging, her voice is laced with hurt and desperation.

Hizashi sighs heavily, feels his already frail resolve waver and then break, and allows her to pull him away from the crowd of ninja lingering at the now shut gates. "What is it?" he asks, glancing down to meet those grey eyes. Maybe, whatever it is, Satsu will make it quick. Maybe it will be painless. And just maybe his older brother will remove the curse seal from his brow and cede over the clan to him tomorrow. Somehow, Hizashi doubts it.

There are tears in her eyes. Against his will, Hizashi decides that she is pretty when she is sad, too. And then she says two little words which stop his whole world and send him reeling:

"I'm pregnant."


	17. Tempest: Neji

_Author's notes: Here it is, some more NejiTen. I hope I kept them in character, but if not, sorry._

**Tempest**

When he was nineteen years old, Neji Hyuga told his over eager grandmother not to go about making wedding arrangements for him, because there was only one girl in all the world that he could even consider spending the rest of his life with, and she did not condone the match. His grandmother had argued, and protested, had sworn that he would grow out of it, said it was a passing fancy. In the end, Neji had walked out on the flabbergasted old woman. Now, more than a year later, he still feels the same.

No one can replace Tenten. She is his teammate, his sparring partner, the girl who knows the secrets of his eyes and guards them as though they were her own. She is also his best friend, the one person who hurries to the hospital when he has been hurt, who helps him with anything he needs and sometimes forces him to do things he does not want to because they are "for his own good." She knows the aching loneliness he feels, recognizes the sorrow in his heart, and comforts him. She is one of the few people that care about Neji the person, rather than Neji the Hyuga clan member or Neji the skilled shinobi.

Tenten is probably the only person in the world who will tell him that he is stupid or annoying, although she does it very rarely. She is doing it now.

They are heading home from an impossibly difficult mission in the Land of Rain, walking slowly down the dirt path and nursing their respective hurts while Rock Lee runs ahead to give the two of them some much needed privacy. He was not there earlier, after all, having run desperately back to the border for reinforcements. He missed the first and worst part of the battle, that moment when they suddenly found their cover blown and themselves with an army against them, all alone in enemy territory. That despair filled moment when they thought they would die.

"I still can't believe you did that! Do you know how heavy this stupid kimono is when it's soaked with water? I could have drowned, Neji!" Tenten is clad only in the thin white underkimono that was part of her earlier ensemble, plus a long loaned black coat, her high sandals having fallen off long ago. She stomps angrily ahead, not wanting to look at him. But that does not stop her from complaining, voice drifting back to him, and this is not her usual good natured teasing, either. This time, his friend is genuinely pissed.

"But you didn't," Neji replies very quietly and calmly, pearl eyes focused upon her back as she tries to open some distance between them. _It was so like that time when we were genin and went after Sasuke, and I didn't want you there with me, waiting to die. I wanted you to live, is that so wrong?_The Hyuga is tired and just glad to be alive. He does not really want to be here, analyzing his sudden protective urge or arguing the point. Their many years together should explain his feelings well enough, although Neji hopes he is not so transparent when it comes to the rest of the world.

"You threw me over that damned waterfall! There could have been rocks at the bottom, or a whirlpool, or…" She trails off as the rush of anger fades. Tenten knows why he did it, but it is not what she would have chosen. She had wanted to be there with him at the end, fighting on and living or dying as fate or luck would have it. Never mind that her massive collection of weapons had long since been scattered and lost. Her exhausted mind replays their adventure together, stopping upon a point that has long been bothering her.

"You know something?" His teammate finally turns to face him, and the heavy grey expanse of sky opens up at that moment, drenching them further. Tenten is glad now that she had been forced to ditch the heavy outer kimono when she had been so near near to drowning. At least she does not have to watch the fat and ruinous raindrops splat onto the lovely maroon silk. That one piece of clothing had probably cost more than she makes in three busy months, even taking crazing missions like this.

"Hmm?" Neji finds himself growing quiet annoyed as his long ebony hair washes forward into his sensitive eyes. It has rained every single day since they were deployed here, and it now appears that the storms will follow them all the way back to the border, a morose and unwanted escort. Why can't it just stop for a few hours? He struggles to focus upon Tenten's words.

"We didn't make a very good couple."

She is so quiet that he has to strain to hear her over the sound of the pounding rain. Even then, his eyes accomplish much more through the art of lip-reading, and it takes him a moment to process the information. A little startled by her embarrassed confession, he has to think back over their mission. Had they really been that bad together? Sure, subterfuge was not their strongest point by any means, and in the end they were discovered, but Neji did not think their little act as a normal man and his fiancée had been that terrible. They had argued quite a bit though.

Neji's inflated sense of pride and slightly adjusted but still present belief in fate will not allow him take responsibility for his actions. It is much easier to place blame, call the whole thing nothing more than and out of control and unfortunate series of events. The three of them should never have even been selected for the intense operation, the Hokage had even said so, but there had been no one else and that was all there is to it. "That wasn't our fault. This mission…"

Anger returns with a vengeance. Tenten cuts him off, the gesture very out of character for her normally kind and respectful self. She rudely points an index finger at him, the other hand propped upon her hip, and narrows accusing chocolate eyes. Neji is struck by both the vehemance and the shining water that drips from her thick black lashes. "The mission didn't come out and say that I couldn't handle it. You did."

"I did not." And he hadn't, not really. All Neji had done was veto her ridiculous idea of seducing their target. As the leader of their team, the one who was most familiar with their weaknesses, he had that right. And damned if Tenten had not even listened! She had gone out, intent upon proving something, and tried it anyway. Neji had found the two of them in a hotel corridor, wrapped in each other's arms. It was hard to say whether the target would have ended up being clubbed over the head, or whether Tenten would have been the one in danger. Either way, he had physically dragged her off, effectively putting a stop to her plan.

Displeasure at his denial etches itself onto Tenten's face, and she stomps her muddy bare foot into a puddle of water that has collected in the center of the road. The water splashes upwards, a brief wall between the two feuding friends. All around them, the tempest builds, wind whipping up and rain blowing sideways. Their soaked clothing now clings to them in the most annoying ways, inviting interesting views that they would probably take advantage of if they were not so furious. "You did so. When I suggested it, you made a fuss. And when I tried it, oh boy--"

Neji swipes his hair from his face again. If only it were still tied back, aided by the traditional forehead protector. That identifying marker had been left back in Konoha, though, and he will simply have to deal with the minor irritation in the same manner he is dealing with this one. He glares at the kunoichi standing in front of him, wondering why the normally calm female just cannot see reason. "Tenten, he was a genjutsu specialist. If you'd gotten too close, like you were doing--"

"Shut up, Neji! Just hush." The reminder that she might have, scratch that, probably would have failed at a mission is too much for her. That Neji could even insinuate such a thing infuriates her to no end. Well, she has her pride too, and she does not have to listen to any of this. She is done with it all, done with him. Turning on her dark heel, wet tangles of loose dark hair flying around her face, a determined Tenten marches after Lee, who is wisely keeping his distance.

As she vanishes ahead into the downpour, Neji is overtaken with a feeling of deepest worry. With an insight that suprises even himself, he suddenly knows that this is no regular quarrel between teammates or even friends. It is not even about a mission gone wrong, although that has served as the catalyst for it all. In short, this is a lover's spat, one that has somehow developed between two scared and lonely people who are not lovers. And might never be.

_I will marry no one else. _The words he had spoken to his grandmother rush back to haunt him, and he suddenly feels a depth of fear that easily eclipses the one he had felt earlier that day while staring death in the face. If Tenten continues to walk away, and disappears into the silvery veil of driving rain, he is in for a very long and lonely life. Desperate, he hurries after her, splashing along.

Tenten whirls around when she hears him come sloshing up behind her. Salty tears squeeze from her eyes and slide over her flushed cheeks to mingle unnoticed with the rain. She lifts her calloused hand to ward him off, prepared to use force if necessary, and catches sight of her thin silver engagement ring. Heart breaking, she tries desperately to pull the band from her finger. This had all been an act, albiet an expensive one, for the prop was the real thing, and now that it is over, Neji can have it back. Let him return it to the Hokage or whomever.

"What are you doing?"

There is an ache in his deep voice, a hitch noticeable only to her, and she finds that it grates on her already strained nerves. Now, during the very moment that she has found the courage to give him up, he wants to go all soft-hearted? Well, too bad. Tenten finally succeeds in getting the ring off, and she holds it between her thumb and forefinger at arm's length. "Here, take the damn thing back. I don't want it."

That cuts him deep. Neji had enjoyed seeing it there, had liked the moments of pretend. "Tenten…"

"Take it!" Tenten screams at him, something she has never done before. It dawns on her almost immediately that she sounds as bad as Sakura or Ino, and the thought is horrifying. When did she become just another heartbroken harpy? Is this what love does to you? Gods, she wishes she had never been put on a team with him. He should just take this ring and disappear, leave her to her misery.

Staring at the infuriated kunoichi holding the silver band between her fingers, Neji has only one anguished thought: _I can't let it end like this..._

Neji's strong hand shoots out, grips her own tinier one in a firm embrace. Abruptly, before she can realize what he is up to, he pulls her hard against him. Tenten gives a startled little gasp, but then his lips come down on her own, warm in the chill rain. For a moment she just stands there rigid, while he pours his heart out in the gesture, but then the long years of unheeded hormones and denial rise up, and before she knows it she is kissing him back. It is a long kiss, but comfortable, and healing. When they separate, desperate for breath, he keeps his hand wrapped around hers. "Keep it, Tenten."

Tenten looks up to meet those pearl depths, blinking back rain and leftover tears. There is a question reflected there, but she is not sure what it is that he means. She thinks that deep down she knows, understands, but she is not really sure. Neji is not really asking her to marry him, is he? As trivial as it sounds, they have never even been on a date. "Neji…"

"I wouldn't want anyone to have this but you." Neji really does not know what else to say. Hyuga, after all, have never been big on romance. Worried that she will misunderstand, he gently takes the ring from her and slips it back onto her pruning finger. The act done, he continues to hold onto her hand, least she vanish away into the rain.

Rock Lee has turned around and is observing them with something akin to glee. It is not everyday that your two teammates, soaked to the bone and clothing leaving almost nothing to the imagination, plight their troth. Wait until Gai-sensei hears!

Tenten's brain is whirling. He means it, he really does. Neji Hyuga is proposing to her. She glances down at the engagment ring, the mission returning to the forefront of her mind, and the looks back up at him. "It's not yours to give, remember Neji? We were just borrowing this ring. And what will your family think? I don't --"

One more kiss and all her protests are silenced.


	18. Betrayal: Chiyo the maid

_Author's notes: This is just a weird little story that wouldn't leave me alone, and maybe one day will play a larger part in my saga. Mostly about a maid's relationships with the Hyuga, and how they lead to heartache. _

**Betrayal**

Chiyo has worked for the Hyuga her whole life, as had her mother before her, and she has seen many things during those long years. As outsiders go, she alone knows their secrets, their hopes, and dreams, and disappointments. She knows their long and distinguished history, and their elaborate hierarchy, and the complicated rules that bind them all together. If there were such a thing as an expert on Hyuga and their behavior, Chiyo would be it.

The Hyuga, on the other hand, know very little about Chiyo. They believe her to be nothing more than a simple maid, just one descendant of a lowly family that had served them years before the coming of the Forest Clan and the Hokage and the establishment of the village. All those things are true, but that is not the whole story. What they do not know is that the First Hokage, having suspected possible treachery, bribed servants in all of the great houses to be his spies. Her grandmother sold her loyalty some sixty years ago, and now Chiyo, although she loves the Hyuga, does the same.

Chiyo watches, and remembers, and when she goes home to her tiny apartment at the end of the night she writes down anything of importance and sends it to the Hokage Tower. Each page, though, every paragraph and line and word, tears at her heart. Every report she writes is like another black stain to her already darkened soul. Especially now.

Chiyo is in love, and the man she loves is going to die.

* * *

It all started when she was fifteen, just a few months younger than the handsome twins born to the Hyuga clan head. Curious about her own emerging sexuality, she took to her friend Hizashi, and for the next year or so spent countless hours in his bed under the pretense of cleaning his room. Everyone knew of course. The Hyuga were fine with it, so long as she did not conceive or try to overstep her boundaries as a lowly servant. Besides, they figured it was good exercise for sealed Hizashi, perfectly normal, and maybe it would even help to calm the boy down. The angry young man needed some way to blow off steam.

In addition, Chiyo's mother thought it was an excellent idea. "Pillow talk," she murmured to her daughter, after learning of the first unexpected and hasty coupling. "If he says anything of interest, anything at all, be sure to tell me. I want the full transcript." And she had smiled at her daughter, handed her birth control and then gone about her business, dollar signs reflected in her eyes.

At first, all went well. The two were comfortable with one another, and pleased with the reactions they got from one another's still developing bodies. As time passed though, Chiyo found herself growing despondent. Nothing would come of this affair, not marriage or family or even a romantic promise of undying love. Hizashi thought of her as a friend, and loved her for what she did for him, but he did not care for her in that deep, eternal sort of way. Which is unfortunatly exactly the way that Chiyo began to feel about him, against her mother's wishes and her own better judgment.

War broke out upon a new front, stretching their already ragged lines thinner, and Chiyo was forced to become very active in reporting to the Hokage. During this difficult time, it was crucial that he knew the main families of Konoha were behind him. Hizashi was often sent away on missions, and, to her great disappointment, Chiyo rarely saw him anymore. It was painful, that loss, and it left her lonely, but she was too busy far too busy to dwell upon the feelings.

Time passed in its unrelenting way, the years flying by with little happiness to fill them. Chiyo's mother passed on, leaving her as the sole spy in the whole of the great house. Her life became even more hectic, with no more than the occasional and distant glimpse of the man she loved. To her knowledge, Hizashi, in the rare times that he was home, never even asked about her. It should have served as a warning to her aching heart, but she never heeded it.

And then one dark night Hizashi arrived home with a pregnant peasant girl on his arm and a ring snugly upon his finger. The Hyuga had a royal fit with that incident, and Chiyo was forced to report their displeasure to the Hokage, but all she could focus on was her own pain. Why her? Why should Hizashi marry that little girl who knew even less of the world than Chiyo did, who was from an even lower station than she herself was? Why did that girl, Satsu, or whatever her name was, get Hizashi after only a few months, when Chiyo had held him in the most literal sense for more than a year? Chiyo hated her, and briefly, him as well.

Suddenly, as soon as the first agonizing pains were replaced with the intense heat of her anger, Chiyo was all too happy reporting the family's many shortcomings, as if this deep betrayal could make up for the horrible one that had been done to her.

Eight miserable months later, when word flew around the compound that the peasant girl had died of a fever after childbirth, Chiyo danced. She was in the main family's dojo polishing the floor, and when her fellow worker left hurriedly to spread the news elsewhere she waltzed across it upon lightest feet. Hizashi was hers once more! She immediately forgave him for his infidelity, and in time she became his best friend and confidant again. Oddly enough, sex was no longer a part of it, and Chiyo, still desperately in love with him, could not fathom why.

The Lady of the house, Masako, soon after offered Chiyo the handsome job of looking after Hizashi's newborn son. Chiyo took one brief look at the tiny boy, and although he was most definitely Hyuga through and through, she thought she could see some part of that girl, Satsu, in his face, mocking her. She refused, almost rudely so, and the great love should could have had for her love's child was never was extended to Neji, simply because of his mother.

Years passed by, life dragged on in the way that it does, and then one day she found herself writing a hurried letter to the Hokage, begging for his assistance:

_You have by now heard that Lord Hiashi killed the leader of Cloud. They are demanding his corpse, and we all know the Hyuga will never give it to them. Only one person can fill in for him. They are going to kill Hizashi. You must not let them. Please, please, hurry._

The Hokage comes, but to her horror, he lets Hizashi be sacrificed anyway. Chiyo thinks that was the day she died.

* * *

After that incident, she stops reporting to the Hokage. Although a raise is offered, no amount of money can ever compensate for what she has lost, for what was taken from her. Her heart is gone, and with it, her soul. Nowadays, she is just what she appears to be: An old maid, half crazy they whisper, who wanders the dark halls and half does her job as though she is a broken machine. For the most part, the Hyuga are understanding, and they tend to leave her alone.

Only one person really demands anything of her anymore. Hiashi, widower clan leader, finds that he likes her company now. He could have his pick of anyone really; the girls of the village would love to find themselves married into the rich house, and there are plenty of young family members who are more than willing to take their chances at the top. But none of them, neither those few with their innocence, or the others with their uncanny resemblance to his dead wife, hold any interest for the man.

In time she becomes his friend; they are the same age, and have lived through the same pain, and perhaps they both even played a part in causing it. After a time, although they are both now middle-aged and no longer attractive in the way they once were, they become casual lovers on the side, much in the way that Chiyo was with Hizashi so long ago. Hiashi treats her with more courtesy than his little brother ever did. When they are done, their bodies sated, he always bows formally and thanks her. There is no love there, but that is alright. She's got no heart to love him with anyway.

Chiyo never tells him that, at the moment of release, it is a struggle not to call out his brother's name.

* * *

_The thought here was "girl ends up with wrong brother," and this is what came out of it. Weird. Also, I wanted to portray Chiyo as being torn in too many directions, and losing her sanity. Sort of like Asuka in _Neon Genesis Evangelion_, only not. Anyway, thank you for all of the reviews from last chapter! I love you guys!_


	19. Pandemonium: Neji and Haruka

_Author's notes: Another young Neji piece. This time, the Uchiha! If Neji seems out of character, I apologize, but this does take place before his father dies and he receives the curse mark, and thus he's a happier, more normal kid._

**Pandemonium**

"Haruka, where are we goin'?" This is the first time that Neji has ever left the security of the Hyuga family estate, and the wide dirt avenue they are currently walking down is a new and exciting place for him, his young and developing senses being assaulted from all sides. Sharp white eyes drift here and there, amazed at everything and missing nothing, and his eager, juvenile mind is full of questions; Where are they? What is that? What does it do? Can he have one?

His older cousin Haruka, marching along a good ten feet ahead, pauses and whirls around. Seeing him so far back, she nearly stamps her sandaled feet in irritation. "Neji, you have to keep up with me! I don't want you getting lost. Now come on!" She holds out her hand and the little boy rushes forward to take it, still not focused on where he is going. Together, they cross a crowded, busy intersection, and she practically has to pull Neji along, lest he stop in someone's way. The last thing she needs is to return home and explain to the family that the child was run over.

_We're going to be late. I should have left you back at the compound, with your sleeping father. _No real malice accompanies the thought, just a vague disappointment. Her uncle Hizashi had returned home late last night from a mission and was still resting, so she was stuck babysitting for the afternoon. Normally this would not be a problem, except that today she had been invited to a cherry blossom viewing by her teammate Genji, and Haruka didn't know how he would react to her showing up with a kid. Oh well, if he turned into an ass, she could always just return home.

Of course, they still had to get there first.

"Haruka, I asked you where we're goin'." Neji sounds very determined and indignant, and is probably close to throwing a tantrum. The little boy is already highly upset because Haruka would not purchase a shaved ice for him from the street vendor two blocks back, plus she will not slow down and walk the sightseeing snails' pace that he wants to. Add to that her refusal to answer his earlier question and, for a child used to getting his way, this trip is rapidly losing its wonder and becoming down right upsetting. He tries again, small voice rather plaintive. "Haruka..."

Haruka grits her teeth and rolls her hereditary pearlescent eyes. Neji is really trying her patience today, and she wonders: Are all three-year-olds this bad? She vows once more that she is never having kids- not even if she miraculously finds a man she loves more than anyone- then puts on her patient, adult voice and tries once more to explain. "And I told you before we left the house, we are going to visit my teammate, Genji."

That answer satisfies the child, but only for a moment or so. Neji's eyes catch sight of an new but often repeating image, one he has never before seen used in this manner: a tiny, two-toned curved symbol with a small stick at the bottom, hanging upon the doors and flags of most of the nearby buildings. His curious young brain immediately switches on, and his high pitched voice changes from whiney to serious. "Haruka, why are there pictures of fans everywhere?"

Another question. How many more can he have? A hundred? A thousand? Millions, probably. Her Aunt Hiroko once told her that all children ask a lot of questions, because that is how they learn. The smarter ones tend to be especially bad. Well, Haruka thinks, if that is truly the case, Neji is a genius, complete with a future in the codebreaking division of the village. Taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm down, she replies, "The fans are the family crest of the Uchiha. This is the part of town where they all live."

_And we are not exactly welcome here, so I need you to be quiet, and let me pay attention to our surroundings._

"Oh." A pause, this one lasting perhaps a second. It is obvious that Neji has not read the warning in her mind. "What's an Uchiha?"

She is going crazy. That is all there is to it. "It's a family name, one you are born with. Like Hyuga and- oh, never mind!" Haruka does not really know how to explain it to him. Except for the maids and a few other staff members, most of whom he has had little contact with, Neji has never even seen anyone who was not Hyuga, at least by marriage. The concept of other families is entirely foreign to him, and she will never be able to make him understand.

Neji points his fat index finger toward a large building, this one- like the rest- bearing the fan crest above the entrance. "What's-"

This time Haruka heads him off, answering the query before he can finish asking. "That's the Police Headquarters. It hires mostly Uchiha." They had once had a cousin, she and Neji, who had tried to get in as a recruit. He had turned in his application and done the tests, and then word came back that he had failed the physical examination. A Hyuga bomb a fitness test?Yeah, right. Everyone knew that he was turned away, and most of the family thought it was due to the long-standing feud between the two clans.

Neji is just about to ask what the Police Headquarters is when they round a walled corner and find themselves at the moon-shaped gate of a large recreational park. Through the portal they can see beautiful trees spread evenly across the mowed green lawn, pale pink and white flowers dripping from them like water from a spigot. Seated upon colorful blankets spread on the ground are numerous families, clearly enjoying their spring picnic. Somewhere in the distance, a koto is being played, the classic melody sweet.

"We're here," Haruka announces to Neji, giving his hand a little squeeze, perhaps as much for her own reassurance as his. She looks him over quickly, making sure he has not managed to dirty himself during their short walk. She is relieved to see that, for the most part, he is presentable. "Please be on your best behavior," she reminds him from under her breath. Not that he has ever really been bad before, but just in case. There is a time and place for everything, after all, and Haruka does not want it to be _this_ time. "No more questions, okay?"

The music stops abruptly and everyone turns slowly to face them. Almost all of those present have the same dark hair and eyes, but as Haruka watches one or two flare crimson in an odd and startling display that she is, at least, familiar with. She has seen this before, and as such Haruka is not afraid, even of the palpable hostility she can feel emanating from them. Neji, however, crowds around her feet, trying to hide behind her legs. Being stared at by so many non-white eyes is another new and disturbing thing for him, and it robs him of his normally friendly nature.

"What are you doing here, girl?" A stern-faced, middle-aged man comes walking up to them. His eyes are still coal black, a reassuring thing, but his mouth is set into a perpetual frown. He is wearing the standard jonin ninja uniform- a long-sleeved, navy shirt and pants, plus a bulky forest green flak jacket, as well as the same style sandals that she herself wears. Haruka recognizes him as belonging to the police force. She decides she will not be bullied. This is a public park, after all.

"I was invited, sir." Haruka has to force herself to add the honorific. She does not really like this man, has not since that long ago day when she and Genma Shiranui had been invited to dinner, and he had burst rudely into Genji's house, saying something about an important meeting. Much to Genji's chagrin, his family had tossed both her and and their elite squad mate out into the summer night without further notice.

A friendly and familiar-looking- at least to Haruka- younger man comes running up, and grins when he glances at them. Neji likes how he gives him a little wave at hip level, before turning to face the other man, suddenly deadly serious and respectful. The teenager bows briefly and then motions to the two white-eyed people lurking in the gateway. "Uncle Fugaku, this is Haruka Hyuga, my teammate. I asked her to join us today."

Fugaku Uchiha looks Haruka over once in a rather discriminatory way and turns back toward his family with a nod. He has more important things to do than stand around harassing a visitor, even if she is a Hyuga brat with another whelp in tow. In fact, although his wife Mikoto will not be happy to hear it, he will have to be heading back to Headquarters soon. Fugaku begins walking away, but calls back an order over his shoulder. "Keep them out of trouble, Genji."

"Yes, sir." Genji turns back to them and smiles, his previous good humor returning. He is rather good looking; his face is unlined and unblemished, and his skin is much darker than that of Haruka and Neji- it could almost be considered bronze. Onyx eyes, well lashed, peer out from behind the tips of his long ebony bangs. The rest of his shoulder length hair is pulled up into a high ponytail. He looks Haruka up and down in a way quite different from his uncle, and notes the boy she has brought. "I'm glad you could make it. Who's this you have with you?"

"This is my cousin, Neji. I'm watching him for the day." Haruka bows, conscious of the red eyes still observing them, and then she reaches back and gives Neji a little pat, silently urging him to remember his manners and say hello.

Genji kneels down so that he is almost at the boy's eye level, tries to peer at the child hiding behind his teammate's long legs. "Hi there, Neji."

Neji gives a formal little bow, feeling shy. Haruka thinks she sees a little blush in the boy's pale cheeks, and has to stop herself from laughing with a quick bite to her tongue. What until she tells her uncle Hizashi! This out of character behavior will be something to tease Neji about when he is old enough to understand. Perhaps they can describe him to a future girlfriend? Like a true older sibling, she cannot wait until the day she can cramp his style the way he does hers.

Genji rocks lightly back onto his heels and stands in one swift motion. Haruka, whose babysitting duties sometimes keep from her team for weeks at a time, notes that he has been growing again; She is of average height, and her lips are just in line with the collarbone peaking from between the folds in his navy shirt. Genji catches her looking and grins once more, throwing her a wink that could easily be misinterpreted. Haruka is suddenly glad that Neji is not so very old. "So, do you want to come share my blanket?"

Now Haruka is the one blushing.

* * *

Sometime later, they are all seated cross-legged on the said blanket in a secluded corner of the park, and Haruka and Genji are chatting happily about their teammate Genma Shiranui, who had better things to do than come to a cherry blossom party. The conversation is interrupted when a raven-haired little boy comes toddling up. He is not much younger than Neji, perhaps a year, and Haruka thinks he is simply adorable, even if she does not really like children. "Hi there," she says, waggling her long fingers at the small child.

"Sasuke, what are you doing over here? Your momma's gonna be worried." Genji gives the toddler a playful push, on the shoulder, nearly bowling him over. Haruka promptly whacks him on the hand, worried that he may have hurt the child with his roughhousing, and Sasuke grins and laughs. No one can tell whether it was the great fun of almost falling down, or the sight of the violence the strange pearl-eyed female had reaped upon his distant cousin that so tickled him.

Neji, having just finished eating a cherry shaved ice that Genji had kindly provided, reaches out with sticky red hands and tugs clumsily on Haruka's white shirt, leaving prints across her chest that she does not immediately notice. When he finally has her attention, the child leans over and 'whispers' that Sasuke looks like a very happy baby. Genji chuckles at that, and Haruka smiles encouragingly. "Neji, you can go play with-"

"Excuse me." They all turn their heads to see a rather serious looking older boy, obviously the brother of the first, standing there. Haruka cannot explain why, but this kid gives her a strange chill. Something about him, even though he looks down at his baby sibling and smiles, puts her on guard. She takes Neji under his thin arms and pulls him into her lap, where he struggles fitfully against her. Didn't she just say that he could go play?

"Hey Itachi, have you come to get Sasuke?" Genji gently hands the little Uchiha boy over, and Sasuke wraps his chubby little arms around his big brother.

Itachi gives a long-suffering sigh as Sasuke tugs on his long hair, but he holds the child easily, and then glances over the two motionless Hyuga as if evaluating them. So this is where his noble family supposedly came from all those years ago? If this girl, who had not even sensed his presence, is a fair representative of her clan, then it is no wonder they are considered to be on the decline. Itachi is not at all impressed by what he sees, and turns his attention back to Genji. In a voice that barely contains his scorn, he asks, "Is she coming with us on the mission tomorrow?"

Haruka squeezes Neji just a little too hard, incised by the disdainful Itachi. Neji gives a small yelp, and she eases her grip, then rubs distractedly at the red marks she has created upon his arms. Mouth hanging open, she turns wide white eyes toward her friend, unable believe her ears. This creepy little kid- the one who had snuck up in her blind spot- is supposed to be going on an operation with them? The pompous little ass couldn't be but what, like seven years old? Surely not.

Genji nods calmly, ignoring his nearly spluttering friend, and Itachi walks away, carrying his little brother with him. When they are out of earshot, he glances back at Haruka, still holding captive with her grasp. "That's Itachi, my cousin. He's the pride of our clan, just graduated from the Academy not long ago. He'll be going with us tomorrow." Genji chews lazily on a stalk of grass, and leans back onto the blanket. His dark eyes gaze up at the falling petals, and then narrow with something that she does not understand. "I wish he weren't."

"'Cause he shows you up?" Haruka asks. She means to sound rude or teasing, she isn't sure with, but the depressed look on Genji's face is more than she had bargained for. "Hey, don't let him get to you," she tells him, but she thinks that she's a hypocrite; On the inside, below her heart that is still beating far too quickly, she is waiting for her bowels to unknot. That high and mighty preteen really had unnerved her, and nothing, not even the burning indignity she had felt under his cursory gaze, clears the sensation. It takes Haruka a long time before she feels like herself again.

Neji finally escapes her clutches and crawls off the soft blanket. He slips his tiny sandals back on, carefully does up the little nylon straps, and stands up. "I wanna walk," he announces loudly, daring anyone to contradict him. Perhaps he can find Sasuke and play like his cousin suggested earlier?

Haruka sighs, finally catching a glimpse of her stained-beyond-saving shirt. Teenage vanity overrules motherly caution and she decides that she would like very much for Neji to go off and play somewhere. He should be fine, so long as he stays within her line of sight. Besides, Itachi is long gone. "All right, but stay where I can see you."

* * *

'In sight' does not mean much when you are a naturally bred Hyuga. Neji activates his own tiny Byakugan and, being sure that Haruka is remains visible, promptly wanders off. He dodges other picnickers- most of whom stare curiously after the white-eyed toddler- and a small carp pond, heading towards a wall of vegetation at the back of the park. He has not gone too far, just slipped under a few bushes, for he can still hear the party behind him, when he runs into an aviary. Neji knows what this is, as they have one back at home. He likes to go there and look at the birds, watch them fly. Maybe this cage has a falcon, a great snowy white one!

Happily, he stretches up on tiptoe and pushes the latch up on the gate. It makes a loud, echoing click, and he grabs hold of it, using both hands and his full body weight to haul back the heavy metal door. Finally, the great thing stands open before him, and he peers inside the structure with mounting excitement. To his strained eyes, the many birds are easy to spot, and he steps into the doorway, trying to count them. Before he can reach up and pull the portal shut behind him, birds come flying out left and right, and a beautiful peacock bowls him over. Surprised, he does not even cry out.

Eventually, the torrent of wings and beaks and clawed little toes ebbs, and the stunned and frightened Neji is finally able to pull himself to his feet and step back outside. Nearly crying, he wrangles with the door for another long moment, desperate to get it shut. After what seems like an eternity, it latches back in place. Worried that he will be in trouble, Neji hurries back toward the blanket where he left Haruka, little legs flying over the ground. Hopefully, he thinks as he ducks back under the bushes, no one will notice the numerous birds that are now flapping everywhere.

This is most assuredly not the case. While some of the feathered fiends have made a mad break for freedom, winging it away into the cloudless blue sky, the rest of the bunch are now making themselves welcome at the picnic, feasting upon the food that has been laid out. Normally dignified Uchiha are running everywhere, Sharingans activated, frantically trying to shoo them off. Old women are shrieking, older children are laughing uproariously, and the youngest babies are crying from fright. The koto player is being chased by a hissing goose. It is sheer pandemonium.

Genji pushes a colorful duck away from his half-eaten sandwich, only to be bitten on the hand by the hissing fowl. The degrading yelp that escapes his throat would be comical under most circumstances, but Haruka is kneeling at the edge of their blanket, looking anxiously for her small charge and paying no heed to him. She does not activate her Byakugan; Haruka has the sneaking suspicion that her cousin is behind this mess, and she wants to be low profile about the whole thing, and not draw attention to the fact that he is missing.

Her worst fear is confirmed a few minutes later, when Neji comes running up to her from the direction of the back of the parkland. The child is covered in an odd, disgusting mixture of bird droppings, multi-hued feathers and sakura petals. His long hair has come undone from its tie and is tangled, his grey robe is tattered, and he is doing his best to look innocent. It is not enough. "Did you let these birds out?" she has to put her mouth to his dirty little ear in order to be heard over the flapping of a group of homing pigeons.

Neji shakes his head no, at the same time asking, "What birds?"

Resisting the urge to scream, Haruka grabs Neji's tiny hand, thanks the sandwhichless Genji for a lovely afternoon, and says that she will see him tomorrow. The she heads for the gate at all speed, dragging Neji with her. When they reach the exit, the little boy stops and waves goodbye to all of the assembled people, but the stressed Uchiha pay them no attention, save for tiny smiling Sasuke, who pauses from feeding his cracker crumbs to a little songbird in order to wave back.

* * *

"Why did you do that?" They are almost home, and the angry Haruka is mildly surprised that Fugaku Uchiha has not yet caught up and arrested them for disturbing the peace. She has by now figured they could beat the charge of attempted larceny, considering the birds in the aviary were public property. Neji's age would be a good factor, too. Still, she cannot believe what has happened, and continues railing at the child. "I told you to be good. I said to stay where I could see you."

Neji opens his small mouth to explain that it was not his fault, that someone else must be guilty, despite the fact that he is indisputably the perpetrator, but Haruka cuts him off.

"Don't even try to tell me that you didn't do it. The very evidence is stuck in your hair; You're absolutely filthy! And, thanks to you, so am I." Haruka glances down at her shirt, seeing the handprints smudged there like some strange tye-dye. A few paces later, a new and even more worrisome thought emerges, causing the normally adult Haruka to almost wail. "Now Genji will never invite me anywhere ever again! Why did this have to happen? Why I even take you in the first place? Why couldn't you be a good baby like Sasuke?"

Neji looks up at Haruka, his toddler face pulled into an almost cynical look. His cousin had been upset with him earlier, when he had asked about- well, he cannot remember what it was he was asking about- and now she is doing the same thing! And why is Haruka comparing him to that baby? Neji is a big boy, and the thought that Haruka might have somehow have prefered the littler child makes him feel haughty and disdainful. He decides right then that he does not like Uchiha very much, particularly Genji and Sasuke. Frowning, he begins to once again drag his feet.

They come around the corner closest to home, and Haruka has to ignore the questioning stare of the shaved ice vendor. Thankfully, the rest of the avenue is deserted, and so there is no one else to see their shame, no more witnesses to point them out to the angry Uchiha mob who might even now be searching for them. Suddenly, the Hyuga estate swims into view, and Haruka knows that she has much bigger problems. Her uncle is waiting at the open gate, leaning casually against one of the posts and talking with the old gateman. When Hizashi sees them, he smiles and waves.

Wait until he gets a good look.

Haruka wants to curl up and die, but instead she sighs and lets go of Neji's hand, letting him run happily ahead of her, down the red dirt road toward his father. She does not relish the upcoming meeting; Neji will be in trouble because of what he did, but his a child and will soon be forgiven. She, on the other hand, will be disciplined for not watching him better. Haruka almost bets that she will get pulled from tomorrow's mission and be assigned some demeaning task, like scrubbing the main house toilets.

At least- she figures, bowing low before the confused face of her uncle- she will not have to deal with that jerk Itachi.


	20. Incarceration: Hanabi

_Author's notes: Set after Hanabi's raped, and while I wouldn't say that she's crazy, she definitely needs some help. Some language in this one, although nothing too graphic. Thanks to Lady Rini for reviewing the last chapter!_

**Incarceration**

"Your movements are slow," Hiashi says, regarding his younger daughter with something akin to displeasure. "And you aren't paying attention. Why is that, Hanabi?"

The teenager drops out of her Gentle Fist stance, ashamed by her father's observation. Her pearl eyes fall to the polished wooden boards beneath her feet, and Hanabi takes a moment to examine her reflection there. How can she still look the same, after the events of the other night? Shouldn't her father, with her esteemed family's bloodline limit, be able to see the taint? It is there, after all, lurking right beneath the surface of her porcelain mask.

For the first time in Hanabi's young life, she decides to lie to her father. Squaring her narrow shoulders, she meets his monochrome gaze. Her thin, rose-colored lips separate, ready to spill the falsehood that should keep her safe, at least for a few days more. "I'm-"

On the other side of the dojo, the heavy wooden door rolls open, and the deep grinding drowns out Hanabi's words. As she turns to look, three figures step boldly into the room and begin walking toward her. They are backlit by the morning sun, and although Hanabi cannot see their faces, she knows they are not Hyuga; None of the family would dare disturb the duet's customary taijutsu practice.

Hanabi cannot believe this is happening.

The three men- elite jonin, each wearing the village uniform and keeping carefully blank faces- cross the ancient hall with a purpose. The one in the center steps past Hanabi without a glance, moving to stand before her father. The two flankers merely stop, placing themselves between her and the still open door. Hanabi's heart begins to pound a staccato rhythm that has nothing to do with her earlier physical exertions. There will be no escaping now.

"Lord Hiashi Hyuga?"

"Yes. Whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?"

Hiashi's face makes it clear that being disturbed is anything but a pleasure. The jonin before him frowns, for he takes no joy in this part of his job, and pulls a scroll from the small pouch at his waist. Holding it before him, he straightens his posture and meets the moon-like gaze of the Hyuga lord. "My name is Takehiro Watanabe, and I am a member of the Konoha Military Police. This is a warrant for your daughter's arrest."

The next few moments are confusion. Hiashi reaches out slowly and takes the certificate, certain that it must be a mistake. Watanabe turns around and nods to his subordinates, relaying their orders without the use of his voice. Those men move quickly forward, tugging restraints from their belts. Hanabi stands frozen in the center of it all, unwilling to believe that her doom has come upon her so suddenly. It becomes abruptly real as they slap the cold metal, chakra constraining handcuffs around her wrist and begin to tug her toward the door.

"Hanabi Hyuga, you are wanted for the murder of shinobi Akihiro Kiyama. We are taking you into custody now. Please be advised that whatever you say can be used against you in court. You have the right to an attorney…"

She is being arrested.

"NO!" Something inside of Hanabi snaps. She sets her feet against the perfect floorboards, leaning away from the officers and bracing herself. Her dark head whips back toward her father, seeking his help, but Hiashi is staring at the warrant like a man possessed. Hanabi struggles, trying to fight her way back to him. Her strength is not enough, though; With piercingly loud squeaks courtesy of her sandals sliding across the polish, the three men pull her bodily out of the training hall and onto the veranda, their muscles against her determination.

The sunlight is momentarily blinding. As her vision clears, Hanabi is confronted with the worst sight imaginable. Word of the incident has apparently spread, for the whole of her extended family seems to be gathered in the courtyard now, or leaning from the upper story windows, watching with barely concealed excitement. Glancing at their faces, Hanabi knows that they are thinking she is getting what she deserves. In reality, she is nothing more than a branch member without a seal, and she has overstepped her boundaries long enough.

This is what happens when you defy fate.

The jonin pull her down the steps and onto the packed earth. Hanabi snarls angrily at her observers, her white eyes narrowed in her contorted face and ebony black hair tangled about her, almost terrifying in her madness. And that is what she is- mad. Hanabi can see it now; she has not been right since the day Hinata was reinstated as heir, since she lost everything. That night when Akihiro pulled her under a bridge and raped her, stole the only part of her that was still virgin, was just the final straw.

The family gradually backs away, opening the path for the officers and their charge. Hanabi realizes then that she will be carried away from her home, and she becomes desperate, redoubling her efforts to escape and glancing about for aid. Her father is still in the dojo, dazedly rereading the arrest warrant, trying to comprehend the awful piece of paper. Her grandmother peers from an open upstairs window, silent and accusing. None of the assembled says a word in her defense, and her heart sinks. Will no one help her?

Of course not. No one cares, no one has ever cared.

And then Hanabi spies her older sister. The lovely young woman has just stepped inside the large main gate, returned from some sort of liaison with that Uzumaki boy. She glances around, startled by the huge crowd and commotion. When her eyes fall upon Hanabi, they grow wide, and she freezes in place, rendered incapable of any movement. Hinata knew this day would come, ever since her sister blurted out the terrible truth in that lonely bathroom two nights ago. Still, she had not expected the police to be here right away.

Hinata's thoughts whirl, spinning like Konoha's leaves caught upon a breeze. It is too soon. She thought they would have more time to mount a defense for her sister, to keep her free. That hope has now been dashed. Hanabi is going to prison, and Hinata has to ask herself: even if her prideful sister is given the opportunity to tell her side of the story- to save herself- will she even want to?

Hinata flashes back to that horrible night. _Please, please don't tell Dad..._

"Hinata! Hinata, please! Help me!" Hanabi's call is a desperate plea for assistance, made to the only person who had ever provided her comfort. The sound of it tears at Hinata's heart, but she remains firmly routed to the spot, even as Watanabe begins asking her to move out of the way.

The distance between the two women closes, with Hanabi still resisting the arresting officers. Her frantic white eyes meet the anguished ones of her older sister, and they hold one another's regard, communicating without words. The spell is broken when they come abreast and Watanabe steps between them. Hanabi shoves hard against the man, and he falls out of the way. The teenager lurches forward and latches onto Hinata, clinging to her thin waist.

Hinata deceptively strong hand latches onto Hanabi's thin shoulder, and she pitches her voice low, hoping that only the girl sobbing against her belly can hear. "Don't lie to them, Hanabi. If you can't tell them the truth, don't say anything at all. I'll do everything I can. I-"

The jonin tear Hanabi roughly away before Hinata can finish speaking. The Hyuga heiress whirls around just in time to see them drag her sister through the gate. Once outside, they bundle the still struggling girl into an old paddy wagon, latching the stout, iron-covered door firmly behind her. A second later, Hanabi's pale face appears at the bars of the little window set into the side, staring agonizingly back toward her home. "Hinata! Help me!"

Hinata opens her mouth to reply, to tell her sister to be strong, but at that moment the wizened Hyuga gatekeeper slams the massive timber portal shut, blocking the public's view of the spectacle at the estate and cutting off the heiress's view of both the street and her sister. One more distressed shout floats over the courtyard walls, heartbreaking in its intensity: "Hinata!"

Inside the compound, Hinata stands rigid. Eyes are resting unfocused upon the closed gate before her, ears strained for the fading creaking of the cart as it carries her sister away into captivity. The girl's final plea echoes back to her, replaying in her mind. Hinata begins to weep then, careless of who might see.

* * *

The summer sun is high, scorching in the still afternoon air. It is really too hot to be outside practicing taijutsu, but this hour is all the break that Hanabi gets, and she intends to make the most of it. Even if she has to do it handcuffed, and under the watchful eyes of the guard standing in the shadow cast by the village prison.

"If you don't talk, they're gonna put you on trial and the jury is gonna give you the death sentence."

Hanabi ignores the man. It has already been a week since her arrest, and she still has not told the investigators anything. What can she say? She would rather die than let someone know she was too dumb and weak to prevent what happened. The girl cannot bear to see the look on her father's face when he finds out the truth. Let him continue to think it was some sort of senseless killing, that she murdered a fellow shinobi over something stupid. They can _all _think that for all she cares.

The guard leans casually against the brick wall, apathetic. His slow, drawling voice is more oppressive than the humidity. "Girl, you must have a death wish."

Hanabi comforts herself with the thought that, once dead, at least she will no long have to listen to the pretentious man. She grits her teeth and throws a shoulder-high kick, difficult to do without free arms to balance yourself. Sweat pours down her developing body, pooling in awkward places. She hopes it is not evident to the guard.

"Are you listening to me? Do you want to die?" The rude sentinel asks, again.

Hanabi brings her Rotation to a stop and turns to face him. She shrugs her shoulders, uncaring, and moves away before he can ask any more troubling questions. Dropping down between the roots of the yard's only tree, she leans back and closes her eyes, lest a betraying tear slip out. It isn't that she necessarily wants to die, but she has already lost everything she was living for. Her sister has the clan now, and Hanabi no longer even has her dignity.

Perhaps sensing Hanabi's distress, the guard crosses the drying grass and moves to stand beside her. His nearness is a little unnerving; the last man who came so close had assaulted her. Hanabi balls her hands into fists, the short nails leaving little crescents in the skin of her palms. She keeps her eyes closed, pretending with grace that the man is not present.

"Word has it the Hokage is trying to get you set free. Isn't he dating your sister?"

That comment gets a bigger reaction from Hanabi. They need to leave Hinata, poor frail Hinata, out of this mess. Her older sister is the only person who gives a damn about her, and that means no one can speak ill of the young woman. Hanabi sits upright and shoots the persistent man an icy glare. "That's not your business."

The guard nods, unfazed by her attitude but not disputing her statement. He bends over and places his hands under Hanabi's elbow, helping to pull her to her feet. She chokes back a scream and jerks away from his touch, but if the sentinel notices, he says nothing about it. "Fair enough. Anyway, he wants you cleared so badly that he's thinking of sending Ibiki in here to drag the truth out of you."

Despite the bright sunlight, Hanabi goes cold. Jonin Ibiki Morino has long been considered one of the village's best interrogators, able to pull information from even the most tight-lipped of enemies. If Ibiki becomes involved, with his special brand of mental tortures, she is not sure she can remain silent. Following the guard back into the building, Hanabi gives her head a little shake: They wouldn't really torture her, would they?

* * *

Her cell is comfortable by prison standards, but to Hanabi it is a hell. Windowless, located underground to prevent escape by shinobi, it is cold and slightly damp inside. Compared to her high standards, the room is small- maybe fifteen feet by twelve- she is not sure even though she has paced it a hundred times. Worst of all, it is open to view in the front. Everyone can see in, can peer in unabashed. Fortunately, there is a little shoji screen around the clean, working toilet for privacy, and she has a heavy blanket on her cot that she can wrap around herself in order to hide from prying eyes.

During her second week of incarceration, the Kiyama family shows up to stare at Hanabi as though she is an exotic animal in the zoo, a man-killer. She throws off the blanket and glares back murderously. Hanabi has had enough of everyone thinking she is the bad person here, and though she will not allow the truth to be known, will be damned if these horrible people get to see a pathetic sniveling little girl who appears in the least remorseful for what she did.

"How could you?" Akihiro's plump mother whispers accusingly, her small eyes red and grief stricken. The last time she saw Hanabi, the girl was a guest in her home, praising her cooking. And now…. Now, she is the murderess of her eldest son.

Faced with the cold condemning eyes of her teammate Ryu, and the angry ones of his mother, Hanabi just grins. She wants nothing more than to tell the woman that for a jonin, her oldest son was surprisingly easy to kill, that he was a scumbag who preyed upon little girls, and that she would dance across his grave if she ever got the chance. But Hinata has told her not to say anything like that, and Hanabi will be damned if she apologizes, so she continues to smile her feral smile.

The grieving mother hurls herself at the rusty bars, and her fat arms come through, struggling with crazed strength to reach Hanabi. The teenager actually steps closer to the opening, goading the woman with her mere presence. The mother snarls at her, baring old teeth and reaching ever closer…. "You little bitch, you killed my baby, and all you can do is smirk? Do you know what you've done? I'll never see him again, ever!"

"Good riddance," Hanabi mutters. Her guard is coming down the hall now, attracted by the noise. Ryu notices the man as well. The Hyuga watches with interest as her former squad mate and friend drags his flailing mother from the prison.

* * *

Hinata visits regularly, bringing news.

In an act that Hanabi considers a betrayal, Hinata has told her fiancé the truth. Naruto has vowed to have her acquitted, and is working hard with to have her released. No one had ever thought the Uzumaki could do so much paperwork. Fortunately, Hanabi thinks, they have no proof without her testimony. And at least Ibiki has yet to be called in.

The Kiyama family begins pushing for a fast trial, loudly bemoaning their loss to anyone who will listen. If Hanabi had a good name in the village, it has probably been slandered beyond repair. Hanabi finds that she cannot care about that; she does feel sorry, however, that Hinata must listen to it all.

Finally, word comes that Hiashi might try to get the daimyo involved, but he does not want to risk it unless he knows that Hanabi has not just randomly murdered someone. This is perhaps the most reassuring thing of all. At the very least, no one has yet told her father the truth. Hanabi has not let him down, not failed him in that respect.

As the weeks pass by, it is her only consolation.

* * *

"W- Why don't you just t-tell them?" Hinata asks, standing so close to the bars that her tiny nose pokes through them. She holds her hands against her chest, wringing them in agitated motion. Her stutter has returned, a product of her stress. Hanabi thinks that it is annoying. "You've b-been here almost a month."

Hanabi is sitting motionless upon her bed, her eyes focused upon the bricks of the far wall. After a few heartbeats, during which Hinata begins to wonder if she is even listening, she murmurs, "I can't." It is the truth; Her pride, the only thing that is still functioning, will not let her.

Hinata's voice is gentle, but there is a pleading undercurrent. "Hanabi, I don't want you to d-die."

Hanabi nods to indicate that she has heard her sister, and quietly rolls herself up in her blanket. She turns to face the wall and sleeps, ignoring the choked off sob from Hinata. She is not feeling well anymore.

* * *

Neji comes to see her once, whether out of curiosity or the goodness of his heart- if he has one, for Hanabi remains unconvinced- she knows not which. He is polite enough, and she also, but they are not close and neither knows what to say, so eventually he leaves. Hanabi does not miss him.

* * *

It dawns on Hanabi, one day as she sits on the toilet behind her screen, hiding from the accusing eyes of the world, that she has not had a period in some time. A month, at least, has passed since her last menstruation. Maybe more. The realization is as sudden as it is painful.

This cannot be happening.


	21. Hate: Hanabi and Hinata

_Author's notes: This is the continuation of the last chapter. I changed my mind about it being about Neji. Warnings for this one include language, a rather frank discussion about reproduction, and a slightly graphic ending._

**Hate**

Hinata is nervous. She sits upon the high examining table in a small, pristine room of Konoha's hospital, and swings her legs back and forth in agitation. Her fine clothes are gone, taken away by a pretty young nurse, and she is wearing only a thin cotton _yukata _that leaves her feeling far too exposed and lets the chill of the metal seep into her body. Oh, if only Sakura would hurry up!

_Perhaps I should have just seen the family doctor_, she thinks, before quickly dismissing the idea. Although the Hyuga have their own personal physician on call at all hours, that does not guarantee the best service. Certainly she would feel uncomfortable being examined by a male doctor, and anyway, the old man probably could not keep a secret. Her business- this most important, private business- would be all over the compound within moments.

Just one more thing the first born failed at.

There is a polite knock on the door and Hinata blushes and pulls the _yukata _further down over her hips. Sakura Haruno strides in wearing a white lab coat, long pink hair pulled back and emerald eyes shining bright. "How are you today, Hinata?" she asks, shutting the door quietly behind her. The doctor turns to look at the younger woman, and smiles. It has been more than a month since she last saw her friend, was a guest at Hinata's quickly pulled together wedding. "I suppose you are keeping Naruto busy."

At any other time in her life, Hinata probably would have fainted dead away at the other woman's rather sexual insinuation. As it is, she just frowns and glances away, eyes alighting on a poster describing the proper hand-washing technique. Her voice is almost inaudible, and she struggles to keep the newly returned stutter at bay. "Yes, we've been very busy."

Sakura senses her good friend's distress. "What's wrong? They haven't moved Hanabi's trial up, have they?"

Hinata drags her eyes away from the poster and shakes her head. It has been four months since her sister was thrown in prison for murdering the man who raped her. Hanabi has so far refused to tell the truth about the incident, too ashamed and worried about what others might think to save her skin. Despite everyone's best efforts, time is running out. If the girl does not speak up soon, the authorities will find her guilty of a the heinous crime. Her baby sister is on trial for her very life.

"No, and Naruto and I are doing everything we can to get the charges dropped, or at least reduced. To be honest, they don't even have any evidence other than the mother's testimony and a doctor who will say he was murdered by a Gentle Fist strike to the heart."

"She isn't guilty, is she?" Sakura lays the manila file folder she has carried in onto the worn nearby desk, then turns back to Hinata with her hands clasped. "I mean, there's more to it than murder, isn't there?"

Hinata is not sure how much to say without compromising the investigation and ruining her sister's chances at having her life restored to her, but she trusts her friend and fellow kunoichi implicitly. She meets the curious green gaze and whispers what little she can. "I can't tell you what happened. I mean, I had better not. Hanabi did kill him, that much is true. But… there were extenuating circumstances."

Sakura just nods, dropping into her rolling chair, and they sit in silence for a good while, a clock on the wall ticking off the minutes. Finally, the pretty doctor speaks up. "So, what are you here for?"

This time, Hinata does almost faint, but she pulls herself back together at the last moment because this matter is of the gravest importance. She is the one that came here and asked for help, after all. Blushing furiously, she manages to stammer out, "I- I'm trying to get pregnant."

Sakura nods, and makes a quick note in the folder. The medical kunoichi is cannot claim to be surprised by Hinata's revelation. The outside opinion in the village has always been that the Hyuga seem to reproduce like rabbits. "Go on," she urges her friend, not really excited to hear about Naruto's sexual prowess, but eager to help.

"And I can't." Hinata finishes weakly, shifting her body back and forth and bringing up her hands in the old, familiar nervous habit.

Sakura laughs then, gently. "Hinata, you were married only a month ago! You know that it doesn't always happen right away. These things are natural, and they take time. Plus, with all that's going on, you're highly stressed right now. Carrying a baby would be difficult."

"Please don't laugh." Hinata does not really know why, but it hurts, her close friend giggling at her like this. She squeezes her pearlescent eyes closed, waits a moment for the hot tears to dissipate. After a steadying breath, she starts again. "Sakura, I don't want to sound childish or anything, but I've really been trying much longer than that. I'd say more than six months now. No results. I- I haven't even been a day late."

Sakura leans forward now, her full attention upon the case. Hinata's story is becoming rather interesting. Who new that the Hyuga heiress and Naruto were getting intimate before their marriage? Not uncommon, but truth be told, the doctor did not think her well-bred friend had it in her. "Alright, but that's still not really that long. We're talking what, six months at the most?" Hinata nods and Sakura continues, "And what makes you think it's your fault anyway? Naruto probably can't shoot straight."

As children undergoing puberty, they had once viewed a film about reproduction which contained images of deformed sperm swimming around in circles, and it is this memory that features prominately in the both women's minds. Sakura still finds it hilarious, but Hinata, now desperate for a baby, just finds it very sad. With a quiet sigh, the new bride hands over a medical file that she had swiped earlier from the Hyuga records room. "This was my mother's. It... It contains her medical history."

Sakura flips open the proffered folder and begins to read. Her green eyes widen with every line she reads; this story, that of a woman dead nearly sixteen years, is truly shocking. After some time, during which neither woman speaks, the pretty doctor turns and places the heavy file on the desk next to the first. "That was... very interesting." She pauses a moment to slip on a rubber glove. "I'm sorry, Hinata, but I'm going to have to do an examination."

"I thought you'd say that," Hinata whispers, lying carefully back upon the table. Before she can dwell upon the rising feelings of immodesty, she brings her knees up and lets the thin hospital robe fall away.

When the first cold instrument touches her center, she squeezes her eyes shut and says a prayer for the best.

* * *

Hanabi paces her small and spartan cell, heavy blanket wrapped tightly around her. Fifteen feet one way, twelve another. This is her thousandth circuit today, some sort of record, perhaps, but she is not keeping track. Not of that anyway. It has been four months since she was locked away here in this hellhole. In that time, summer has passed, and fall has nearly run its course. Four whole months. And for slightly less, she has known the awful, unwelcome truth; there is a baby growing inside of her.

Hanabi had no period that first month. Normally this would not have worried her, for she had skipped quite a few during her short years of menstruation. Hinata had told her that it was because she was so active. But she had never before had intercourse, and the continually absent blood left her feeling sick and worried. Finally, one night after lights out, she lay down and very carefully examined herself with her Byakugan. It was strange, peering through her own body like that, and she felt sick when she saw it there: her fetus.

The teenager will not call it her baby, she absolutely refuses to do so. This is something forced upon her, something she had never wanted, something her own body betrayed her by creating. And now the horrid thing is growing, causing unwelcome changes within her young body. Hanabi hates it with a passion, and would gladly be rid of it, save that she has no way to do so without attracting the attention of her guards. And she does not want them to know. If they figure this out, they'll eventually know the whole truth.

And so Hanabi hides her disgusting weight gain, slight though it is, under her dark blanket and a lie that she does not want to leave her cell for exercise. Instead, she paces round and round, desperate to keep her secret. If she can just hide it for another two months she will take the stand at her trial and tell the world contemptible Akihiro Kiyama was, and how glad she is that he is dead. Then they will haul her off and execute her and no one will ever know how weak she was, and the shame she has suffered.

_Just two more months_, she thinks as she pauses in her rounds and rests her head against the cool and rusty prison bars. For the first time she feels the child stir in her womb, no more than a flutter, and Hanabi, little more than a child herself, presses hand to her belly in response. "I hate you."

Her whisper goes unheard in the darkness.

* * *

Hinata has shrugged her newly returned clothing back on by the time Sakura returns from the laboratory. While waiting on her friend to finsh making some notes in her medical chart, the heiress settles herself once again on the examining table and frowns. Her stomach churns nervously, and her delicate hands, resting in her lap, begin to tremble. She cannot shake the feeling that something is horribly wrong, that the tests have revealed some permanent disability...

On the other side of the small room, Sakura sighs loudly and leans back in her cushioned chair. The doctor rubs her aching temples for a moment, blinks her bright eyes a few times. She hates to give this unwelcome news to her friend, and wants to do it gently. She has seen women ruined by less. "Hinata, I... Well, first of all-"

Hinata glances down toward the ground, observing the polished black and white tile there, and gives a weak little smile. "It's okay, Sakura. Please just tell me." She forces herself to breathe slowly, and reminds herself that she is not a weak little genin anymore, but the reinstated heir to the clan and the wife of the Hokage. She can handle this situation, whatever her medically inclined friend says. She will have to.

"Hinata, it's very obvious that your mother had some reproductive issues. She miscarried numerous times, and for no apparent reason. If the file that you brought me is correct, then she also had plenty of opportunities to become pregnant, but often didn't. You may have inherited these problems from her. Have your periods always been regular?"

The Hyuga shrugs slightly, too disappointed to give a more committed response. She has never told anyone about the sporadic and spotty bleeding before, although she had once advised Hanabi that the girl's own missing menstruation was nothing to be particularly worried about. Raised by a widower father, the subject had been practically taboo. Even now, she cannot really put it into words. "I always thought it was from training so hard."

Sakura shakes her pink head in denial. "That's sometimes the case, but given your family history, I don't think it's your problem. Hinata, I don't mean to sound crude, but the examination should your uterus to be almost… underdeveloped."

Hinata has to stifle her gasp with the hem of her kimono. She is barren. She should have known it. After failing at so many other things throughout her life, Hinata should not be at all surprised that she cannot manage to be a fertile woman. Wait until her father finds out that he has chosen an heir who can give the family no more heirs. And what will her husband think? "So, I won't be able to have a b-baby? Ever?"

Sakura frowns, and reaches for her friend's small but strong hand. She takes it in her own grip and gives a little squeeze, trying her best to be reassuring but honest. "I wouldn't say that you are physically incapable- nothing's impossible, you know- but it would be difficult to say the least. There would likely be complications, and in the worse case scenario, you and the baby could die. It would really be healthier for you to give up. I mean, there are other alternatives..."

Hinata withdraws her hand and stands up, bowing politely in her friend's general direction without really looking at her. With this latest news, she feels as though she will never be able to face anyone ever again. "Thank you so much, Sakura. I- I appreciate your frankness."

Hinata leaves very quietly, a shadow of the woman she had been before the examination. After she has gone, Sakura plants her head upon the desk and cries for her two friends.

* * *

It is surprisingly cold for late November. A chill wind blows down from the north, proving to be quite the unwelcome surprise for Konoha's fiery-veined citizens. Hinata, lost in her thoughts and wandering slowly home after her disastrous doctor's appointment, does not even notice the warm puffs of air that escape her mouth with every shallow breath. Her only desire is to return to the comfort of her new husband's arms, to be kissed and coddled and told that her barren state does not matter. But her feet, accustomed to a different path these last few months, have other plans.

"Lady Hinata?"

For the first time since leaving the hospital, Hinata lifts her moist eyes and finds herself at the guarded door of Konoha's prison.

* * *

The guard leaves her standing just inside the small cell, and Hinata waits until he is out of earshot before turning to look at her sister. For the second time that day, her heart breaks.

Hanabi does not look happy to see her. Her mouth is pursed, her brows lowered in anger. Her pale cheeks are gaunt, and there are shadows under her eyes. But the twin orbs still blaze defiance, and maybe something else. To Hinata, the teenager appears more frightened and wild than ever before. Confinement is slowly stripping the child's humanity, leaving nothing behind but a creature desperate to have its suffering ended.

"How are you Hanabi? Are they feeding you enough?" It is so hard for Hinata to see her sister like this. Why weren't they better friends when they had the chance?

White eyes stare back at Hinata for a long time, and she has to force herself not to fall prey to old habits and look away. Finally, Hanabi glances away. She shifts a little upon the small bed, wrapping the blanket tighter around her body. The girl answers in a tone that any sullen teenager might use. "Yes, I'm getting plenty to eat. Everyone treats me fine; they ignore me mostly. And before you even ask, I was the one who told them to cut my break time."

Hanabi does not say the truth; the secret baby is like a parasite, slowly sapping her strength. At this rate, she might die before the case even goes to trial. Not that she'd complain; death is still preferable to the whole village learning how far she has fallen.

Hinata tries again to talk sense into her sister. "All you have to do is tell the investigators what happened that night. We probably won't get the all the charges dropped, but I can't see them convicting you for murder. Maybe you could be placed under house arrest or something."

Hanabi laughs, and the sound is harsh and brittle. It seems to echo down the dark and damp hall. "Hinata, you and I both know that even though there were no witnesses they have enough evidence to find me guilty. His family will say that I went out with him, people will corroborate that, and some medical examiner will say he was killed by a Hyuga-style technique. Sure, it could have been some other Hyuga, but do you think anyone's going to fall for that if we bring it up? Think Neji is going to step in an take the rap for me? No. It's over."

The goodness in Hinata's heart quickly forgives her sister for lashing out. "B- But you don't have to die, Hanabi! If you t- tell the truth-"

"They'll either lock me away for a long time or, if everyone's sympathetic enough, I'll be removed from duty and returned to _your_custody. But neither of those options is worth the loss of my dignity. Now, I'd like you to go away. I'm tired." Her sister dismissed, Hanabi closes her red-rimmed eyes and focuses her wrathful mind inward. The damn baby lies heavily upon her today. If only the thing would just disappear...

"Hanabi, please. You are worth it, you're life is worth it. Hanabi, I love you!"

There is no reply. Hinata is once again on the verge of tears; this day just continues to get worse. Desperate for comfort, she reaches out to hug her baby sister, but the younger woman senses her intention. Hanabi's eyes snap open and she slides away, slinking to the farthest corner of her matress. Hinata is too distraught to wonder about the teenager's avoidence, is too blind to see another motive.

"Hanabi-"

"Guard! We're finsihed here!" Hanabi's yell is louder than Hinata would have ever thought possible, given the girl's neglected appearance. The steely tone in her voice covers the oilless screech of the opening cell door. When the guard takes Hinata gently by the elbow, the crying Hyuga heiress is too surprised by his arrival to protest being lead away.

Hanabi does not watch them leave.

* * *

On March twenty-seventh, her sixteenth birthday, the guard brings Hanabi an unwelcome bit of news:

Together, Naruto and Hiashi manage to push the trial back another two months. The first court date is scheduled for early April.

Hanabi grieves at the thought of holding onto her silence for a lengthier amount of time. Every day she lives brings her closer to the moment when she can no longer keep her secret, when they will drag her out of her dark cell into bright spring sunlight and everyone will notice just how tight her clothing has become. And then the whispers will start, perhaps sympathetic but most probably just oddly fascinated, and they will all know that she was the one thing she never wanted to be: the victim.

"I hate you," she whispers to the creature that is killing her so very slowly. She repeats it over and over again, and endless mantra of darkness. It is almost all she can say anymore.

* * *

Hinata shows up the day before Hanabi's court trial is set to begin, sobbing before they even let her inside the tiny cell. Once there, the gentle young woman throws her shoulders back and tries hard to look determined. In Hanabi's opinion, the effect is ruined by the tears coursing down her cheeks. "Hanabi, I can't take this anymore! For whatever it's worth, I'm going to testify for you. I'll tell them the truth, and maybe they will listen-"

The thought of Hinata upon the stand, sitting before the village elders and desperately keening out her tragic story is too much for Hanabi and her frail and raw nerves. After months in captivity, the teenager reaches the end of her fragile sanity. Summoning what little chakra she has left, Hanabi leaps awkwardly from the bed and moves toward her sister, her right hand raised to strike. "If you tell them what happened, I'll fucking kill you!"

A shocked Hinata easily dodges the first frantic attack. Hanabi's taijutsu, once fearsome, has grown quite rusty locked away here. Stepping further away from the rampaging girl, the still weeping Hinata tries again to calm her sister and regain control of the situation. "Hanabi, please calm down! You don't mean that!" But even if she does, even if Hanabi's words are not lies, Hinata is going to tell the jurors the truth.

She _will_ save her little sister's life.

"I do! I hate you!" Hanabi's scream echoes loudly, her hand balling into a small fist. Another swing, this one coming closer. Hinata's back is nearly to the wall, so she steps inside the teenager's guard and strikes a few key chakra points in quick succession. Immediately, Hanabi loses all feeling in her right arm and leg, and collapses against her sister, leaning heavily. Hinata's white eyes widen as the young girl's hard, swollen stomach connects with her own flat one.

Worried that she has been busted, Hanabi scoots quickly away, dragging her betraying body across the rough stone floor to her favorite corner of the cell. Once there, she stands clumsily and curls in on herself, desperate to hide the sign of her fertility. It is far too late now, though: Hinata already has her own Byakugan activated and is examining her. Nothing escapes those divine eyes, not even the secrets of another user.

"Hanabi, you're-" Hinata cannot finish as she is suddenly overcome by emotion. Now the awful, looming trial can be postponed again, at least until after the baby is born and its DNA is used in a paternity test. Her little niece- the child is full near developed, and Hinata can tell its sex- will be the miracle that proves her testimony. The elders will have to believe that Hanabi was raped, that the murder was simply a girl overcome with emotion defending herself.

Hanabi is _saved_.

And then, to Hinata's everlasting horror, her sister reacts like a trapped animal, and she sees the chakra flare sudden and strong in her left hand, the one that is still functioning. Before the Hyuga heiress can step in, before she can stop the madness, Hanabi brings it down hard across her own fertile womb. Hinata sees the uterus explode like a dying star, darkest blood dribbling thickly down her sister's white legs. Hanabi's eyes roll up into her head, and she mercifully passes out, crumpling to the floor in a bloody heap.

Hinata does not realize that she is screaming until the guard appears outside the bars and calls her name.

* * *

_Yeah, I know that was pretty dark, and a cliffhanger. I'm in no way done with this story arc, but the next time I write about it should be the last chapter. Then maybe I can move on to something a little happier. A big thank you to my reviewers._


	22. Verdict: Hanabi and Hinata

_Author's notes: I decided not to leave you all hanging, so here's the final part of this story arc. Warning for pretty graphic descriptions. Thanks to those who reviewed._

**Verdict**

The strident scream that echoes down the dark hall of Konoha's prison is unlike anything that has ever before left Hinata's mouth. To her own ears, the pitch is unrecognizable; To the guards stationed at the front desk up on the next story, it does not even sound human.

"Help! Help, please! Someone help!" Kneeling on the cold floor next to her unconscious sister's body, the silvery-grey hem of her kimono soaking up the warm blood that has been spilled, Hinata just screams for aid, calling out over and over and over again. The air around her is so thick with the stench that Hinata think she can taste the coppery liquid, could even choke upon it, but she does not stop yelling until the guard calls her name.

"Lady Hinata? Lady Hinata, what's happened here? Are you all right?" The guard, peering through the rusting cell bars, looks dumbfounded. In some logical, still-connected back corner of her mind, Hinata supposes that he probably is. How often did one come across the Hokage's crimson-stained, wild-eyed wife in a prison, sitting panicked beside a girl whose life is flowing out onto the ground?

"I'm-" Hinata tries to answer the alarmed guard, but all she can think of is the past few moments. The horrible scene replays itself again and again inside her head: Hanabi's small hand coming down hard across her swollen womb, across the helpless, almost full-term baby girl inside, a surprise due to the eight months her sister had been imprisoned. The life bearing organ had been immediately ruined by the unstoppable surge of chakra from the Gentle Fist, the organ exploding and the blood seeming to come from everywhere.

Hinata, with her hereditary eyes, had seen it _all_.

"Lady Hinata?"

The thoughts keep coming, each one more distressing than the last. How could Hanabi have lied to them all for so long? How could her sister so casually throw away her innocent child's life? Hinata, having been told just a few months ago that she will never have children, feels sick at the very notion, but now is not the time to think of motherhood. As a kunoichi and the closest thing her genin team had to a medic, she has seen far worse out on the battlefield. Shaking, Hinata pulls herself together.

The guard is still standing there, wan-faced and nervous. Hinata fears that he will vomit, but the young man clears his throat and tries to sound capable. "Lady Hinata? Lady Hinata, what do you need?"

Hinata finally tears her eyes aware from her sister and and turns them toward the guard, who recoils ever so slightly at the sight of her stricken face. There is something the heiress must know. "Do you have a kunai? Some sort of knife?" Her small _tanto_- the one that she carries with her out of old habit- had been checked at the door. The practice is common enough, designed to prevent escapes or murders by the facility's talented inhabitants. Not that it had helped, in this case.

"I, uh-" The guard is unsure of what to do. Procedure says that there should be no weapons brought inside the cell by anyone but himself. However, the woman in front of him will soon be leader to the Hyuga clan and, more importantly, she is the Hokage's wife. Surely that makes it okay? Of course, her rank as a ninja is only equal to his own, and there is a prisoner whose wounds are unexplained, lying beside her-

"Do you or not? I need one. Hurry, please." Hinata is frantic, watching the dark puddle underneath her sister grow ever larger. Time is of the essence, and it is flying away while this incompetent man standing before the cell tries to make up his mind. After what seems like an eternity, the guard nervously hands out his large, pristine condition kunai, and Hinata snatches it from him, scratching her the back of her hand on the rough metal bars. "Now, run and get a doctor. She's going to bleed to death if we don't do something."

The man is off like a shot, and as Hinata hears the sound of his footsteps die away she turns back to her sister.

Her hand shakes as she pulls Hanabi's black spandex shorts down to stare at the carnage visible there. It is horrible: a large multicolored bruise is developing across the unbroken skin beneath the girl's navel, evidence of internal bleeding, while plasma dribbles from that secret and violated place between her pale thighs. Even without the Byakugan, Hinata would be able to see the white of the pubic bone visible through a small tear in the flesh. With it, she can see that it is fractured, and Hinata knows that such a wound can be paralyzing.

Disgusted, Hinata wants to only look away, but she cannot. There is something that must be done.

Carefully, her white eyes strained to the limit, Hinata brings the point of the kunai down across her sister's lower abdomen, drawing a line that is perhaps too long. As the blade kisses the contused skin, Hanabi moans and gives a little twitch but does not awake, and for that Hinata is eternally thankful. If her sister were to sit up and begin to scream, the heiress does not know what she would do.

Layers open, muscle and other things, and more blood wells to the surface, bright red. It stains Hinata's soft white hands, makes them slippery, and she carefully adjusts her grip and cuts again. She can see it now, lying in the body cavity: the womb, burst like a balloon and shriveled like an old grape. It may be the most revolting thing she has ever seen, but as she watches it moves slightly. "Oh, please…" It is a half whispered prayer, and in the end Hinata cannot finish it. It is far too much to hope for.

Heart in her throat, bile rising, Hinata reaches inside the warm and broken body of her sister and lifts the thing as far out as it will come. Some of it- fallopian tubes?- falls away with a sick sound, and the young woman shreds the rest in her desperation. And there she is, her tiny niece. Miraculously, the child is unharmed. Hanabi's chakra, low from lack of training and the babe itself, was not enough to completely pierce the organ and kill the baby. A moment more inside her mother, though, and she would have drowned in the rising tide of blood.

The premature baby begins to scream its indignation in Hinata's arms, loud wails from a thin, undernourished body. Hinata cuts the child free from the umbilical cord, only to find that the placenta had become unattached moments ago. The little girl's survival is suddenly even more amazing, and Hinata tosses the kunai away and ties the bleeding stump off with a strip of linen cut from the hem of her kimono. Then, Hinata hugs the wailing child close to her breast with one hand while trying to staunch her sister's bleeding with the other.

Against the odds, Hanabi begins to stir, eyelids briefly fluttering. Hinata supposes that such a reaction should not come as a surprise, for her sister has always been incrediably resilent, but she hopes that the teenager stays unconcious for a while longer. Maybe it will save her some pain. While Hinata does not agree with what her sister has done, can never condone it, she is too nice a person to wish that the girl suffer- or die- for her misdeeds.

A familiar and wholly welcome voice startles her painful musings. As always, Hinata's heart turns over at the sound of it.

"Hinata- Whoa! What's going on here?" Naruto Uzumaki, Hokage of Konoha and newly wed husband, has just arrived with the guard and is obviously taken aback. His cerulean eyes are wide and his mouth hangs open for the briefest of moments, but he immediately takes charge. "Open the gate. Now."

The guard fumbles anxiously with his keys, and finally the cell door swings open, rusty and loud. The sound is hardly heard over the unceasing howls of the baby. Naruto hurries inside and bends down next to his wife, followed quickly by two others that Hinata had not yet noticed: Lady Tsunade, the former Hokage and medical specialist, and her assistant Shizune file in after him. The tiny cell is suddenly very cramped.

Triage is second nature to Tsunade. She squats beside Hanabi, looking the teenager over with an expert eye that reflexively catalogues dozens of statistics. "Unconscious postpartum female, approximately fifteen years old, suffering massive obstetrical hemorrhaging, subtotal hysterectomy and Cesarean section by... Kunai? Possible mild broken pelvis and bruises indicating a Gentle Fist style attack. Her chakra system could be compromised. Shizune, take care of that baby! I can't hear myself think."

The dark-haired woman squeezes between Naruto and Hinata and bends down. Shizune's eyes are sharp, but when they meet Hinata's, they soften slightly. The medical ninja holds her healing arms out, the hands hidden beneath her overly long sleeves. "Let me. She isn't full term, is she?"

"No, she should be about eight months." Hinata quickly passes the child over to more experienced hands, and there is an ache in her heart as small body leaves her own. Shizune steps out of the way, moving closer to the bars in order to examine the baby. Naruto takes over the space vacated by the doctor, placing a comforting hand upon his wife's thin shoulder. Hinata glances at him, and smiles, but the gesture is small and just a little bit forced. Naruto cannot remember the last time Hinata smiled for real.

"When this is all over, I'll make sure you never frown again."

"I thought you two already had your honeymoon," Tsunade growls, crowding closer. She nudges Naruto with her foot. "Move over will you? Hinata, keep putting pressure to that wound."

The Hyuga heiress is hard pressed not to ask which wound Tsunade is talking about. She grabs her husband's hand and forces it to her sister's abdomen, trying hard not to think about how strange this all is; To her knowledge, this is the first time Naruto has ever really been in the same room with Hanabi, much less touched her. If Naruto is having any of these same thoughts, he gives no indication, merely grimaces as the sticky red substance coats his fingers.

"Baby is stable, Ma'am."

"Good. At least that's one of them," Tsunade murmurs, holding two fingers to Hanabi's thin wrist and counting slowly. After a second she drops the arm, and gives her assistant a new order: "Have that useless guard get us a stretcher, pronto. I know there's no doctor, but this prison does have an infirmary that's surgery capable, right? If we have to take her all the way to the hospital, she's not going to make it-"

Hinata chokes off a sob. She cannot afford to fall apart now.

"As it is, her heart rate and blood pressure are falling; she's going to need an emergency transfusion, and even then, this girl might crash."

"That's bad, right?"

Tsunade shoots her political successor a withering look, while her long fingers glide across the unconscious girl's forehead, pausing at each temple to force chakra into certain areas of the brain. This should ensure the teenager does not wake during surgery, but with Hanabi's chakra pathways messed up by Hinata's attack, there are no guarantees. "Shut up, Naruto. Hinata, do you know your sister's blood type?"

The young woman nods shakily, the tears springing unbidden into her eyes. "She's an A. So am I, if that will help."

"Oh, it'll help. But is still might not be enough."

* * *

Hanabi's heart stops beating seconds after she is placed upon the table in the infirmary. Tsunade is hard-pressed not to punch the girl out of frustration; How many of these Hyuga has she had to pull back from the brink of death over the years? She truly does have the worst luck, but this time she intends to beat the odds. Placing her hands above the teenager's breast, the Sannin tries to jump start the organ with a massive chakra shock. "Shizune, get over here! We've got no pulse."

_Oh, gods. She's dead, my baby sister is dead..._

Hinata barely sees Tsunade's assistant leave off searching the unlabeled cabinets for plasma pills in order to perform cardiopulmonary resuscitation on Hanabi. She does not hear the unceassing cries of her niece, the baby wrapped in a towel and lying abandoned upon a counter top across the room. And she does not feel the sting of the hypodermic needle being ripped from her vein as she drops out of the chair where her blood is being taken for a transfusion.

"Hinata!"

The Hyuga heiress faints dead away.

* * *

The Hyuga would say that there has always been something special about Hanabi. Some would refer to it as strength or resilience. Others would call it vivaciousness. The most poetic among them would mention the will of fire, that burning flame located deep inside the soul, the one that cannot be extinguished by any means. Whatever the term, three minutes after going into cardiac arrest, Hanabi Hyuga sparks back to life like the fireworks she is named for.

The surgery that follows is intense. Hanabi's ovaries, fallopian tubes, and uterus are damaged beyond repair; Tsunade is not even sure where all the pieces have gone, and so she finishes what Hinata had started, cutting the whole reproductive system free, leaving only the cervix and vagina intact. Shizune works beside her, stopping the hemorrhaging and setting the fractured pubic bone. Under their care, Hanabi's condition stabilizes, and after more than an hour, they are finally able to close the girl up.

Hinata awakens to find that both she and her sister have been transferred to Konoha Hospital. After reassuring her worried husband of her health, and undergoing a quick examination by one of the nurses, the heiress is finally allowed to visit Hanabi in the Intensive Card ward. The sight of her sister, pale and thin, still in her medically induced coma, reminds Hinata of just how close to death the girl came. In the end, it takes the promise of a Sannin before she is willing to believe Hanabi is out of danger.

In a cruel twist of fate, Hanabi's baby is not doing well. A neonatal checkup makes it obvious that while the child was mostly protected from the collapsing uterus by the amniotic fluid, that same liquid acted as a conductor for the shock waves caused by the Gentle Fist, sending them straight to the little girl's ears. Both eardrums have been punctured; Shizune repairs them as best she can, but only time will tell if the baby will be able to hear. The preemie is placed into an incubator for monitoring.

Hinata divides her time between the two.

* * *

Two weeks pass, and as the month of April advances, Hanabi wakes up and begins to take an interest in her surroundings. She has long since been moved out of the Intensive Care unit and given her own private room upon the second floor. The large window to the side of her bed is often left open to allow the spring sunshine to stream in, and Hinata notes that the pretty view, more than anything, does her sister good. Hanabi's body is healing quickly, and even her mind, which before had seem so fragile, now functions with amazing clarity.

If she misses either her womb or the child that had been occupying it, Hanabi gives no indication.

"She's alive, you know," Hinata tells her the teenager late that afternoon. She is perched upon a wooden stool beside Hanabi's bed, peeling the rind from a large green apple. Her little sister has been eating like a horse since before she was cleared to be on solid foods, but she is being especially fickle today and refuses to eat the nutritious skin. "I'm sorry I waited this long to tell you, but I didn't know how you would react."

Hanabi glances over at her curiously before speaking around a mouthful of animal crackers. "Who is?"

Hinata is so surprised that she slices herself with the knife. Placing the half-skinned fruit upon the nightstand to her right, she quickly brings the stinging digit up to her lips and sucks instinctively upon the wound. Seconds pass and the pain fades, but she leave her finger at her mouth in thought. Surely Hanabi has not forgotten everything? Tsunade never mentioned amnesia as a possible side effect of clinical death but, certainly, such a thing must be possible? "Your daughter."

Hanabi drops the little packet that she has been holding and it falls forgotten into her lap, the crackers splintering into crumbs and dirtying the crisp white linen bedsheets. One piece, what appears to be the head of a turtle, tumbles all the way to the rug. White eyes track its descent, the teenager leaning forward as though she would like to fall down as well. Her jet black hair slides into her face, shielding it from Hinata's view. She whispers, "How?"

So Hanabi has not lost her memory, merely wishes to cast it aside and pretend that nothing has happened. As though there is not an innocent babe strapped into an incubator on the other side of the building. Uncharacteristic agner grips Hinata; the young woman purses her lips, her small hands clenching into fists where they lie in her lap."You weren't strong enough to kill her. And I think she wanted desperately to live._ I_ wanted her to live, anyway."

Throughout her sixteen years, no Hyuga has ever called Hanabi weak, and yet she knows that- in this one instance- the term is wholly fitting. She has acted deplorably, but even so, her magic eyes can see no way out of the dark situation created by her pride and vanity. Hanabi closes her pearly eyes and takes a deep breath. When she finally speaks, she sounds close to crying. "I- I don't want to be a mother. I'll never be able to look at- her?- and not see _him_. And everyone will know what happened, that I- That I..."

Hinata cannot understand her sister's position. What happened to Hanabi was indeed horrible; Hinata cannot begin to imagine the pain and shame the girl suffered at the hands of the eldest Kiyama boy. Even so, children are by their very nature pure, even one conceived through an act as foul as rape. Hinata has always wanted to be a mother, and the idea that Hanabi would willingly toss that chance away is incomprehensible to her. Especially when the girl will never get another opportunity. "But, Hanabi-"

Hanabi finally turns to face Hinata, the sun highlighting her wet eyes and tear-streaked cheeks. It is only the second time the elder girl has ever seen her sister weep, and her previous anger evaporates. Perhaps sensing the change in her mood, Hanabi wipes her face with the front of her hospital gown before continuing. "You take her, Hinata. You want a baby, I can see just how badly. It would be for the best- you need an heir, and I would be a terrible mother. If they don't execute me, that is."

Outside, a shadow passes across the sun, dimming the world. The cloud is the first of a gathering stormfront, just one of the many that rumble through the village this time of year. Hinata normally welcomes such clouds as the bringers rain, for the nourishment they provide to the spring blooms. In this case, with the newly rescheduled trial lingering over their family, it just feels like an evil omen. She looks her sister straight in the eye. "Don't say that."

Hanabi shrugs, seemingly unconcerned about the possibility of death, and reiterates, "You take her, Hinata."

"Hanabi, are you sure? Maybe you just need a little more time to accept her." Hinata's heart is pounding at the thought that the little girl could become her own, and so the protests are merely part of the inherent courtesy that has been forced upon them since childhood. The words are a reflex- much like her old stammering- that Hinata finds herself irritated for using. If the past nine months have taught her anything, it is that she and Hanabi are sisters, and that is a bond not easily broken.

Hinata vows that nothing- family, skill, succession- will ever come between them again.

Hanabi reaches over to the nightstand and snatches up the discarded apple. She takes a large bite, disregarding the skin she had so earlier opposed eating, and the sound is loud in the sudden silence of the room. As she chews, an old spark comes back into her white eyes, one which family members have learned to fear. It is the look that means Hanabi has made up her mind, and disagreement means war. "I already told you, didn't I? Don't make me repeat myself."

Hinata realizes that this heartfelt conversation has ended.

* * *

"Hanabi Hyuga, please rise."

Eight weeks have passed since her surgery, but Hanabi still is not fully healed. It takes her a long moment to rise out of the wheelchair she had been sitting in, but she does so without using the table before her for leverage. As she straightens her back, a grimace crosses her pretty features; a moment later, it is gone, and only the three Hyuga in the cavernous room know that it was ever there at all.

"It's going to be fine," Hinata whispers, her mouth barely moving. Dressed in a deep purple kimono befitting both a Hyuga heiress and Hokage's wife, she is the only other person who has been allowed to sit at the defendant's table. Somewhere behind them, in the mass of humanity that has squeezed in to this part of the Hokage Tower in order to hear the verdict read, is a whole host of friends and family. Their father is there somewhere, with Neji and Tenten standing beside him. Behind them-

Hinata cannot help the small smile that comes to her face. Naruto is part of the crowd, temporarily standing down from his Hokage duties. The Kiyama family had insisted that a trial ran by the defendant's brother-in-law was not an impartial one, and they were right. Tsunade, along with two other elders, had consented to being the judge in his place. Of course, all this had worked out for the best; it allowed someone to watch the newest member of their family, Haruhi Hyuga.

"Hanabi Hyuga, based upon DNA evidence, a physical examination by medical-nin Haruno, and the testimony you have given to Investigator Morino, in the matter of the murder of Akihiro Kiyama-"

Out of sight, underneath the table, Hanabi's knees begin to tremble. She has undergone so much in the past few weeks: First, her newborn's genetic code was tested against samples from the body of Kiyama, and found to be a match. Then Sakura had performed an inspection and determined that the scarring upon her cervix could have been an indication of rape and had almost certainly occurred around the time of the baby's conception. All of this had served to corroborate the story she had finally- willingly- told Ibiki.

"-This court finds you to be guilty of involuntary manslaughter. The punishment for this crime is three years' imprisonment. However, your culpability is reduced by way of diminished capacity, and you have already spent more than nine months as a prisoner awaiting trial. This time shall be applied to your sentence, and as such your sentence is to be reduced to two years of house arrest. You are to be stripped of your rank and active duty status and remanded to the custody of your family."

The court flies into an uproar, the Kiyama family shouting that the whole trial has been rigged. Other people try to shout them down, while up front, Tsunade attempts to gain control of the situation. Armed shinobi begin escorting people from the chamber. Hanabi sinks slowly back into her wheelchair, dumbfounded. It takes the teenager a very long time to realize that her smiling sister has placed her delicate hand upon her arm, and is chattering at her about something.

"Hanabi? Hanabi, did you hear me?"

"Huh?"

"It's over, Hanabi. You're free."

* * *

_In the end, I just couldn't let Hanabi's baby die, although that would have made for some serious drama. I'd also like to say that I'm not a doctor or a lawyer, so forgive any mistakes. Please let me know what you thought._


	23. Stoic: Grandmother Masako

_Author's notes: Woo-hoo! Here's to four thousand plus hits! I'm so excited, I hope everyone out there is still enjoying this. Thanks for the reviews! Umm… I'm having a lot of trouble with my Neji chapter, and this wouldn't leave me alone, so here's a story about his grandmother. No warnings, save more complicated Hyuga issues._

**Stoic**

It is a late winter's night, chill but dry, and Konoha is finally at peace. After years of ceaseless warfare, of endless battles fought against the Village Hidden in the Clouds, an alliance treaty has been signed, diplomatic relations restored. Combatants are recalled, families reunited. Shinobi can rest easy, and they do, all across the village and the country beyond. And thus it is in the house of Hyuga, where the whole of the large clan lies sleeping.

Lady Masako, the family matriarch, is dreaming. In her dreams she is young again, a virginous but not entirely innocent sixteen, flirting with the stable grooms in her old palacial home. It is a wonderful feeling, knowing that you are beautiful and desired, perhaps even loved, and she does not want it to ever end. If she could, she would sleep forever, and hold this precious feeling close. But she cannot.

Sometime after midnight, all hell breaks lose.

Masako hears it even in her sleep, and it startles her to wakefulness, the sound of a voice raised loudly out in the main courtyard. Other voices soon join the first, and then she hears numerous feet pounding down the hallway outside her door. Creaks and groans as family members reach the old staircase, and the singing of the nightingale floor as those downstairs step outside onto the porch. The whole house is on the move.

Is it a fire? Why does the family not sound more alarmed? Why has no one come for her? She calls out, curious but not afraid, and the door slides open, a young, new maid rushing in excitedly. "Oh, Lady, you must come quick! Lord Hiashi has killed an intruder!" There are sparkles in the girl's plain eyes, and Masako almost snorts. This one, like all of the rest, must but lusting after her oldest child. Will she never get a decent servant?

Under her gaze, the eager young woman falters a bit. She bows and is back in her proper station, manner reserved, but the apperance does not last long. She bubbles over again a bare moment later. "Don't you want to go see?" She is almost pleading. Unless her mistress goes, or dismisses her, she will never get to see what is happening in the yard.

Arching a delicate eyebrow, Masako throws back her covers and climbs gracefully to her feet, ignoring the slight twinge in her hips. She does not hurry, as she is too well-bred for haste, and robes herself carefully. Then she has the maid dress her hair, as she chides girl for her foolishness. "If my son has killed the intruder, then we need not rush. The dead don't get up and leave."

The chastised maid nods. "Yes, my lady."

One last glance in the large mirror, and Masako rolls the door open herself.

Nearly thirty minutes have passed since the alarm sounded, and she is the very last adult to make an appearance in the main courtyard. The clan members, all of them dressed for bed, part in silent waves before her, allowing her to step through. As she comes to the center, she can see Hiashi there with her husband, Hideyoshi. To the side stands a maid, holding her sleeping granddaughter Hinata, and next to them is Hinata's mother Hitomi. On the ground, dressed all in black and with blood dripping from the mouth, is a body.

Masako looks closer, and her aged heart stops.

She knows this man.

* * *

Decades ago, longer even than she cares to admit, Masako was sixteen and perfect. Her father was a powerful retainer to the daimyo of the Land of Lightning, his treasury officer, in fact, and being his oldest and most favored daughter, she had a substantial dowry. When it came time to wed, Lady Masako would not be handed off to just anyone.

And then it all fell apart. Her father was accused of embezzlement, and he took his own life in disgrace. Masako received only a fraction of her inheritance, and she and her sister were sent to live with an uncle. Fortunately for her, she was pretty, and of good lineage despite the new taint of her father's name. The offers for marriage were not what they once were, but they were still good. Her uncle gave her a list of names and a few pictures and told her to hurry and chose. The sooner she was gone and in someone else's care, the better. She had a bad habit, after all, of distracting his men.

And so one day she sat primly upon a bale of hay in her uncle's grand stables, waiting for her horse to be shod for a hunt, and looking carefully over the many propositions. Whom she should chose? The man with the tea empire? The distant but wealthy cousin? She glances at the pictures and frowns in disappointment. Few of the men are handsome enough to attract the vain young thing.

"Little Masako, what are you doing?"

She jumps at the sound of the voice, and quickly tries to slip the list into her kimono sleeve. A strong hand catches her slim white wrist and her friend Jiro steps from behind her, quickly relieving her of the paper. He is a few years older, tall and thin with short dark hair, and has worked for her uncle all his life. Recently he was promoted to the position of Master of the Horse. "Ah, Masako, what's this? A love poem perhaps?" Jiro's tone is teasing, but as he looks over this list his sharp eyes darken and she can almost see him filing the information away.

She has always wondered if Jiro was one of those secret people, a ninja. He is far too quiet, with the amazing ability to appear from nowhere, and he possesses lightning-fast reflexes. She has seen him dodge the kicks of horses, outsmart her uncle's purebred hounds, and solve some pretty complex problems without the aid of people who should be far more educated than himself. He also has a tendency to disappear for days at a time, leaving her uncle in a rage.

Masako has been tempted, once or twice, to voice her suspicions. What if this man is just spying on their household, waiting to garner some crucial piece of evidence to convict her uncle of some wrongdoing? With it being her future upon the line, she takes the matter deadly seriously. But every time she goes to bring the matter up with her guardian, Jiro does something stupid like slipping in dung, and the whole thing gets forgotten. At least until the next odd occurrence.

One thing is for certain though: Jiro knows quite a bit about everyone. He should be able to give her some dirt, provided Masako does a little digging of her own. "Not at all. It's a summary of all the men who want to marry me." She says it while batting long black eyelashes and glancing demurely into her lap. "I'm quite taken with one or two, but I just don't know who to chose." She turns deep brown doe eyes up to him. "Who do you think would be best for me?" The helpless female act almost always serves her well.

Jiro glances over at her and his eyes are now dark with something else. Masako almost laughs aloud with glee. She loves it when the men are lusting after her. And now she has gone and made Jiro jealous. Perfect. He will tell her all the reasons she should not marry these people. Then she can make a more informed decision.

Jiro glances down at the list, and points to one or two names. "This man, your cousin, he's actually impotent. And this one here, the tea peddler? Well, he's selling more than tea, and the daimyo will be onto him soon. I wouldn't go that way."

Masako scoots closer, so that the fine silk of her long sleeve is almost touching him as he stands there. She can feel the heat from his body, hopes he can feel her own. "And which way should I go?"

Jiro frowns and turns anxious eyes to her. A change has come over him in the last moment, and he is not as interested as he was a second ago. Now, rather than put out, he seems quite concerned and frank. "Masako, I don't really care which one of these fools you marry, so long as it's not this one."

Masako leans over, and her head brushes against his waist. There is no reaction from her friend, and she frowns and looks petulantly down at the paper. Jiro's index finger is pointing to a name at the bottom. Hyuga.

"What's wrong with that one? He looks nice enough to me." And indeed he does. This man, Hideyoshi Hyuga, is by far the most handsome on her list. Even if he does have the strangest white eyes. "In fact, I'd say he's a rather nice specimen."

Jiro crumples the paper in his fist, and stalks off. He has gone maybe ten paces when he turns back to her and tosses the list back. She makes a feeble attempt to catch it but it lands at her feet in the dust. "Look, just don't choose him, alright? That's the worst possible decision you could make."

Masako becomes so angry that she stomps on the balled-up list, crushing it underneath her polished leather riding boot, and sticks her tongue out at her friend. "Oh, what do you know? It's none of your business anyway. And I'll marry Hideyoshi Hyuga, just see if I don't."

Jiro looks back at her sadly for a moment and then disappears. It is the last time she sees him.

Six months later, she marries into the Hyuga family in a grand ceremony and moves to her new home.

Two months after that, the Village Hidden in the Clouds, the shinobi powerhouse of the Land of Lightning, goes to war with the Village Hidden in the Leaves. The great ninja wars begin.

* * *

Life with the Hyuga is very different from what Masako had imagined. Her new home is beautiful, of course, although its setting in the rustic village of Konoha leaves something to be desired. Her private rooms are luxurious and to her taste, and she is a hit with the drab members of the household, just as she had planned. But there are so many rules to learn, numerous etiquettes and courtesies that must be obeyed, and people that she must meet and entertain that she is busy all the time.

Her husband is different also. Although he looks exactly like his picture, and he is handsome, he is not particularly affectionate. There are no loving ballads written for her, no sonnets or flowers, no declarations of love. After the lustful gazes and far away worship she is used to, Hideyoshi seems rather cold in comparison. For her there is only an endless amount of courtesy and a hurried body atop her own in the night.

She quickly realizes and almost as quickly destests the fact that she was not married because she was beautiful, but because she was convenient, with good blood, important connections, and a passably large dowry. Despite this, she is treated well (the Hyuga call her _Hime_, or Princess, behind her back) and at the death of Hideyoshi's arrogant mother she becomes the most important woman in the clan.

It is not long before she becomes a mother herself, first to twin boys and then to three more children in quick succession. She loves her babies, and her position of entitlement within the family. When they seal Hizashi though, and all her children who follow, she finds herself disenchanted with her new life. Some days, she can still hear Jiro's voice warning her not to choose this path. She hardens her heart. It's simply far too late to undo it now.

Time flows ever onward. The war with the Land of Lightning, her homeland, continues.

She bans Hideyoshi from her bed, unable to bear him after seeing the way he treats their children, especially Hizashi. Her babies grow up, each becoming their own person, whatever her opinions. They find mates, get married. Her first grandson, Neji, is born and Masako finds herself still capable of love. She is rather surprised, but pleasantly so.

Hinata comes next, and everyone is vaguely disappointed that a girl will be inheriting the leadership of the clan. And such a weak little girl, too.

On Hinata's third birthday, a treaty is signed with the Village Hidden in the Clouds. Masako breaths easier. The war is over, and she is a grandmother, the head of a noble line that should stretch on for eternity.

* * *

But then she slips from the grand house that late night and spies the body of her childhood friend Jiro there on the ground, murdered by her elder son for the attempted kidnapping of her granddaughter and heir. What a huge mess this all is.

_So, he was shinobi after all. I suppose I should have known… Why did this all have to happen?_

She doesn't react, beyond a little a twitch. No sobbing or gasping, no movement toward the cooling body. She glances once, and then turns to meet her husband's accusing pearl eyes. He is watching her hard, waiting for her to perhaps give something away. If he can convince the family that she was in on this plot, that she was the partner in crime of this man from her country, he can do away with her as he has wanted since she rejected him.

He will have to wait a long time. If there is one thing Masako has learned from all her time among these Hyuga, it is how to give nothing away.

Not even when the person you once loved is lying dead on the cold earth in front of you.


	24. Despair: Haruka and Hizashi

_Author's notes: Nothing much in this chapter, except maybe character development. No real warnings, save angst. This one does feature Hizashi, but I promise I'll get back to the main characters shortly. _

**Despair**

"And then the Nine-tailed Fox was sealed away, and the Fourth Hokage died. To this day, he is revered as our greatest leader."

Haruka stops and waits for the reaction to the end of her tale. She knows that it probably was not the right story to tell the nearly four year old Neji, but the ones about their clan and its history were definitely way above his age level, and the fussy child would never settle for plain old fairytales. So she had picked something slightly educational and perhaps entertaining to him, although it does not seem to have done any good. There will be no applause tonight, as little Neji is fast asleep, mouth open and hands tucked beneath his chin.

Well, she _had_ wanted him to go to bed, and give her tired nerves a break. Lately, the child has been nothing but trouble, always full of energy and into things he should not be, and forever asking annoying questions. If she heard the word 'why' one more time today, Haruka swore she would go insane. _He never used to bother me. Why the sudden change?_

Abruptly, Haruka realizes its not her little cousin who is different. Neji is the same as he always was, though perhaps a bit more rambunctious than usual, but at some recent point she lost the ability to deal with him. As much as she loves him, and that is quite a bit, he does not make her happy anymore. Truth be told, little does. _I'm the one who's changed. _The epiphany leaves her shaken, and reopens a fresh wound in her heart. Her eyes prickle and her throat, already dry from speaking, feels as though it is closing up.

Standing quickly, Haruka strides to the narrow window above the bed and throws open the screen, allowing fresh night air to flood the suffocating room. The chamber is not dirty, for the maids keep it well cleaned, and Neji is a fairly neat child, but it is stale nonetheless. What is stifling her is the weight of the atmosphere here in this centuries old house, heavy and musty and simply _boring_. She breathes deeply and waits for the feeling to pass.

It does not. Haruka clutches the window sill as her mind sinks deeper into despair. Nothing around here ever changes, and she shall be stuck in this place forever, nurse to her baby cousin who will one day outgrow her care and leave her behind. And what will become of her then? Her shinobi skills have nearly disappeared, and she is proving to be almost useless on her rare missions. Despite Genji and Genma's attestments, she knows she is more a hindrance to her team now than a help.

Although she had never thought she would, Haruka now understands why her mother left them when she was three and returned to Suna. The woman simply could not stand it here in this old house, dreams crushed, among these people (she no longer wants to think of them as her family) who might as well be chained dogs for all of the freedom they have.

_Gods, I don't know how I'll keep doing this. I don't know if I can…_

Tears well up then, slipping from eyes the color of the full moon hanging high in the sky above, and roll almost unnoticed down soft cheeks. Haruka claps her softening hands across her mouth and steps away from the bed, sinking back into her chair. Even now, her mind in roiling turmoil and her heart beating desperately in her chest, she knows better than to waken the baby. _Neji will not understand. He's so young, and full of promise, not like me. What future do I have? None._

There is a creaking noise behind her and the shoji door slides open. Haruka turns around to see her uncle Hizashi standing there, looking travel-stained and weary, his eyes fixed lovingly upon Neji. After a moment, they turn and meet her own, apologetic. "I tried to hurry. How is he?" He keeps his voice low, so as not to disturb his small son.

"He… just fell asleep," Haruka answers quietly, pushing sobs away. She goes to wipe her eyes, trying to be indescreet, and it is that movement which really catches Hizashi's attention.

"Haruka, are you all right?" Unlike his feelings for most of the clan, her deceased father included, Hizashi genuinely cares for his niece. How could he not, when she does such a good job with his son?

"Allergies." Haruka nods reassuringly, but she cannot bring herself to look into his eyes, and that is what gives her lie away. Her uncle comes to stand next to her and he drops a heavy and calloused but warm hand onto her thin shoulder. Under it, she begins to weep again, turning her face away. Hizashi reminds her too much of her own father, dead these past few years battling the fox demon she told Neji of earlier.

"Something is bothering you. It's not Neji, is it? If so, I can take some time off…" He trails off, observing her and feeling just generally inadequate. Not for the first time, he is glad Neji is not a girl. Dealing with things like this always make him feel uncomfortable.

Haruka puts her head in her hands, and gives it a little shake. Somehow, she manages to gasp out the story between sobs, but quietly. "No, it's not Neji. N-not really. Lord Hiashi and the e-elders, they turned Genji down." She gives a small hiccup, then continues. "He came l-last week and asked to marry me, and they told him no. I- I can't do this anymore."

Without asking, Hizashi knows exactly what she means. It is tough, living your life as just one small part of the family unit and never as your own person, throwing away your dreams and rarely, if ever, getting what you truly want. Hizashi cannot even remember what it was he used to wish for. He gives the best advice he can, knowing it is not enough. "Don't do anything rash."

"Like kill myself?" Haruka asks harshly, her head coming up. She gives a small, dry laugh while the tears continue falling. "Don't worry, Uncle, I'm not that weak." A long moment passes and the bitterness drains, leaving only the unending sadness behind. "Uncle Hizashi, I love him so much. I don't care where we'd live, here or with his family, it doesn't matter. I just want to be with him."

"He's Uchiha, isn't he?" His niece nods, and Hizashi has to try hard not to cringe. Haruka could not have picked a worse person to fall in love with, not even if she had been the heroine of some ancient tragedy. Their clan will never let her go because she has the Byakugan, and they will never let Genji in because of their hatred toward his own family. Marriage is impossible.

It soon becomes apparent that Haruka does not think so. She wipes her eyes again, and gives a small but determined sniffle. "I could always elope with him, on our next mission. Then it would be too late for them to stop me." It is a foolish idea, but she is young, and the young always think themselves invincible.

"Don't," Hizashi tells her, giving her shoulder a squeeze. Age has mellowed him, left him much wiser. He tries to pass that on. "It wouldn't work. Where would you go? They'd track you down and activate the curse seal. Would the few days you had with him be worth it?"

Yes, Haruka's aching heart shouts, and she wonders why her uncle cannot understand. Hadn't he fallen in love and brought home a girl against the family's wishes? Just because it had not worked out so well, why did he have to shoot down her idea? Surely all romances didn't end in failure?

Hizashi sums it up, trying to be gentle, but it is difficult. Few people have ever been gentle with him, and he just does not know how. "Haruka, you were born with the Byakugan, which is both a gift and a curse. And as long as you have it, you will always belong to the family. There's no changing that. It would be better if you learned accept it."

"And get over him?" Haruka whispers, eyes cast to the floor, long hair sliding down to hide her face.

"Yes," Hizashi answers truthfully, giving her one final pat on the shoulder.

Haruka suddenly cannot take anymore of this. Trying hard to freeze her face into an indefferent mask, she stands quickly and stretches. "Thank you for speaking with me. I'm going to go to bed now. Maybe I'll feel better after a good night's rest." She is abrupt, almost even rude, but she cannot help it.

Hizashi nods in understanding, and steps out of her way. "You're welcome. Please don't worry about Neji tomorrow, I'll be here all day. I hope you feel better. Sleep tight." It sounds incredibly lame, but he just does not know what else to say.

It does not really matter. All Haruka can hear is his calm voice in her head, repeatedly telling her to accept her destiny and get over Genji. It plays there, over and over, as she slides the door shut behind her and leans against the wall. _Get over him? Not likely. _Haruka takes a deep breath and then walks slowly down the hall toward her room. She is glad for the lateness and the fact that no one else is about, she would hate for them to see her so undone.

_You were born with the Byakugan, which is both a gift and a curse. And as long as you have it, you'll always belong to the family. There's no changing that. _

A dark thought occurs to her, and she pauses then, struck dumb right there in the center of the hallway. She stands for a long time, puzzling it all out and working up her courage. If she has no Byakugan, the family will have no reason to keep her. She would be a drain upon their resources. After all, a blind Hyuga is of no use to anyone, and they would probably even be glad to see her go.

Hizashi's voice plays once more in her head. _Don't do anything rash._

_Too late, Uncle. Too late._

* * *

_Alright, I'm gonna stop here. Later chapters will make it obvious exactly what happens. My thought for this chapter simply was, how far would some people go to get free? What would they be willing to sacrifice? Still trying to write that Neji chapter, it's driving me insane. Does anyone know exactly how old Neji is during Shippuden?_ _Thanks._


	25. Compassion: Neji

**Compassion**

"Neji? What are you doing here?" There is worry and confusion in the sound of Tenten's voice as she holds the door open. Her small apartment, warm and well-lit and totally unfamiliar beckons him from behind her.

Tenten is hurt, he can easily see that much as he steps in out of the summer rain. Something about the way she moves, gingerly and favoring her side, indicates that she is not yet healed from her fight with Temari. Neji not surprised, as she was probably discharged from the hospital that very afternoon to make way for some of the more seriously injured students, like Lee. It is lucky for him, because if she had not, he would have no where to go.

A normal person would have apologized for showing up so late, especially when they had never even called before, would have explained themselves and the situation. Neji has never considered himself normal, and he is sort of socially awkward anyway, so he stands there dripping, waiting for his teammate to make the first move. When Tenten shuts the heavy wooden door behind him, rather than hurling him back out into the storm, he knows everything is alright.

She must understand, sort of. Or she is just too compassionate to turn him away.

"Let me get you a towel. And take your shoes off, you can stick them right there." Tenten indicates the empty spot in the nearby shoe cubby with her index finger, then turns and heads off down the hallway. Neji hears a distant, squeaky door open and shut, and he pulls his sopping sandals off just in time to see her returning. The large towel she hands him is pale pink, and he takes it hesitantly. "Sorry if it's not your color. It's the only one I have washed at the moment."

He can't tell if she is being sarcastic or not. He pulls off his heavy tan jacket, leaving him wearing only his damp white t-shirt, and Tenten takes it from him and hangs it upon a high peg as he wipes himself semi-dry with the offending colored towel.

"You should probably take off those bandages, too. They won't do you any good wet."

Neji knows she is trying to be helpful, but already the way she keeps telling him what to do grates upon his frail nerves. Abruptly, he remembers how she gave him a black eye on their first day of academy, and how they had spent the rest of their time in school as rivals, hating one another. They have now been teammates for little more than a year, and Neji is still unsure whether he would even refer to her as a friend. But at the moment, she is all he has, and a way better person than he is. After all, he would never take anyone into his own home.

Time to learn some humility. Neji unwinds the wet bandages from his right arm, revealing pale skin and bruised knuckles. The Gentle Fist art he practices is fairly easy on his body, but the wooden training posts that he strikes so repeatitively are not. He is not embarrassed though, and Tenten does not look away.

"There, I bet that feels better." Tenten looks smug, almost daring him to contradict her.

Neji does not, just moves regally on past her and takes a seat upon the small black futon in her living room. She walks over and sits across from him in the only chair she has, and they lounge there for a long while, her watching him and him watching nothing. The clock on the far wall loudly ticks the moments by. Are they supposed to make polite conversation? Hopefully not, as neither can think of a thing to say. The minutes drag by, and the world is silent save for the ticking and the distant sounds of the storm outside.

Finally, Tenten can stand it no longer. She has never been good at the waiting game, always preferring to do _something_, and her silent teammate is making her nervous. "Are you thirsty?" she asks too quickly to sound calm. When he nods almost imperceptibly, she stands carefully and heads into the kitchen. Opening the tall refrigerator, she bends over and looks inside. All that Neji can see past the door is her small behind, so he looks away and relies upon his ears as she begins calling out various types of drinks. "I've got water, of course, and soda. There's milk if you want it. Oh, and I have orange juice."

"Do you have tea?" Next to water, it is really the only thing he ever drinks.

"Yeah, but wouldn't you rather have something different for a change?" Once, not long after they were placed together on a team, Hiashi invited Lee and herself to dinner at the Hyuga estate. Tenten remembers that the meal was long and uncomfortable and that Neji's whole family drank a bitter brew that should probably be prohibited by law. No wonder they were all so cranky.

"No." What can Neji say? He is a creature of habit. It's bad enough to be in some strange living room without having to drink something you don't care for.

Well, that's that. Tenten supposes she is making tea. "It's not the kind you like," she tries again feebly. The last thing her tired, broken body wants to do is dig a heavy pot out of the upper cabinets and boil water.

"That's fine." As far as Neji is concerned, sometimes sacrifices must be made.

Damn him and his haughty attitude. Tenten thinks that she should have left his ass standing in the rain.

Neji almost smiles as he hears Tenten puttering around in her kitchen, collecting everything necessary to make tea. Her language leaves something to be desired. Where did she learn some of those foul words she is muttering? One thing is for sure; If she keeps using them, this is going to be an interesting stay.

* * *

Roughly an hour later, the dehydrated Neji has drunk most of the pot of tea, and is in desperate need of the toilet. "Tenten?" He is not even sure how to cooly and politely ask where it is. It is not acceptable to just tell a girl you need to piss, even if she is your tomboyish teammate.

"Yes?" an irritatted Tenten calls from behind him in the kitchenette, where she is washing up her teacup and some other dishes.

Neji cannot manage an answer. What to say? Their sensei, Gai, would have some flowery speech ready, would somehow manage to hide the primeval need in his voice, but he is not Gai. He isn't even Rock Lee.

Tenten gives a sigh and tries once more, worried that her friend may not have heard her over the sound of the running water. "Neji? Did you need something?"

He is growing desperate now. The large puddle in foyer where he stood earlier is glinting underneath the hall light, giving him ideas. The trickling from the kitchen faucet seems to be the only thing he can hear. Finally, when he is sure his brain must be floating, he sucks it up and spits his question out. "May I use your restroom?"

Unconcerned, Tenten turns off the sink and reaches for a towel. "Sure, it's down the hall and to the left. The first door."

Neji tries not to run.

* * *

It is his first time being in a girl's restroom, and he finds it pretty shocking. The room itself, though spartan, is shockingly clean and bright. There are no foul odors emanating from it, the way the Academy restrooms sometimes smell. The toilet seat and lid are closed, something he has never seen before in the big communal bathrooms at home. He lifts them both carefully, almost as though they are booby-trapped, and knowing Tenten, that may very well be the case. As he does his business, he proceeds to look around, furthering his examination.

It is little bigger than a closet, this room. Present are a toilet, sink, mirror, and a medicine cabinet, all the normal things. But there are also some weird things Neji does not know how to explain. For example, why does Tenten have an oddly colored, triple-bladed razor lying on the counter? Why would she, as a female, even need one? And at this age, when he himself doesn't even have to worry about shaving yet? As his mind tries to come up with a reason, he catches a glimpse of his face in the mirror and frowns to see a light blush spreading upon his cheeks. He will not be embarrassed.

Neji flushes the commode, being careful to lower the seat back to its previous position, and leaves. As he closes the door behind him, he resolves to hold it as much as possible during the rest of his stay.

* * *

When Neji returns to the immaculate living room, Tenten is nowhere to be found. Not that it bothers him, as he figures he would be a little uncomfortable with her after the things he has seen. He settles himself again on the plush futon and feels his exhaustion come flooding back. How long has it been since he last slept? Days, he thinks.

"Neji?"

He turns sleepy pearl eyes back toward the hallway, and Tenten is standing there wearing a pair of baby blue pajamas, arms crossed over her chest and her hair in two braids rather than the usual buns. Every part of her is decently covered, although a tiny bit of toned and tanned stomach peeks from under the thin camisole. For some reason Neji cannot understand, the temperature in the room seems to climb a few slight degrees.

There is some confusion Tenten's her voice, as though she had though he would be on his way after his little pitstop. "You aren't going home tonight, are you?"

Neji frowns in disbelief. She seriously hadn't noticed? He thought he had made it clear by even coming here that he needed a place to stay? Some nagging voice in the back of his mind tells him that it is not Tenten's fault if she is under the wrong impression. He does have a hard time expressing himself, after all. Neji lets go of his pride for a moment. "I have been… exiled from the estate." _And isn't it funny how you're the one I turned to? How I have fallen._

Tenten's eyes widen a little, but that is the only element of surprise she shows. After another second of staring, she closes chocolate eyes and lets her arms drop with a sigh. "I'll get you a blanket then. You can sleep right there." She disappears back the way she came, bare feet padding along the polished wooden floors. The thought had never occurred to Neji that she would not have a guestroom, although he should have known from the size of the apartment. Oh well, the futon he is currently resting on feels comfortable enough. Hell, as tired as he is, he could even share a bed with Lee (who is famous for tossing and turning) and not wake.

Tenten returns with a thick blanket that might be uncomfortable in the hot, humid summer weather, and a fluffy pillow. She hands them both to him, and he takes them with something akin to gratefulness, which is strange, because he has never really been thankful for anything. Propping the pillow up upon the metal arm of the futon, he lays down and pulls the blanket across his body. Its warmth drives out the residual chill still clinging to his skin.

Tenten turns the light out as she leaves the room, and Neji is suddenly alone in darkness with only the ticking of clock audible. Far off, he hears the quiet closing of her own door, and then silence. His mind welcomes the peace, and he begins to drift off. His last coherent thought before sleep takes him is that the pillow smells a lot like Tenten, must be one of her own.

It is oddly soothing.

* * *

_Alright, that was short, and I know everyone was probably wanting some juicy NejiTen goodness, but they are only thirteen! I figured the most they could do was awkwardness. This is probably the start of many short chapters based on Neji's adventures in Tenten's home._


	26. Ultimatum: Hisa and Hideyoshi

_Author's notes: Thanks so much for all my reviews, and welcome to the newcomers! You all are wonderful!_

**Ultimatum**

It is the third day of April, and one of the earliest comfortable days of the year; For the first time in months, the warming braziers inside the home remain unlit. Outside, it is raining so softly as to almost mist. Water gurgles through the gutters and down the clay-tiled rooftops to splash musically to the ground. Fat droplets cling to the bright new growth of the garden plants, as well as the spider webs strung between them, and they look very much like a row of hanging lanterns, making the world sparkle. The shoji doors have been slid open so that the Hyuga may view the birth of spring.

Hinata, five years old and kneeling quietly on the tatami in her mother's quarters, watches it all with rapt fascination. A presence glides silently into the large room behind her- Hinata feels it, but is too entranced by the show outdoors to turn and look. Over the dripping rain, her ears catch the sound of delicate silk sliding across something. Whoever it is has sat upon one of their floor cushions, likely the one directly behind her. A moment later, the gentle scent of lavender perfume reaches her, and tension leaves the little girl's body as she realizes who has come in.

"Hinata, my darling, you have such pretty hair." The words are smoothly spoken, the quiet voice lovely. It is Hinata's favorite voice in the whole world, and it belongs to her mother. The girl sits frozen with anticipation, and soon an heirloom tortoise shell comb is being run in slow, even strokes through her fine hair. Her mother fingers the short, silky mass, murmuring over and over again how nice it is. "You should grow it out long."

Little Hinata is blushing with pleasure under the praise, and she finally tears her eyes away from the garden. "Like yours?" she asks shyly, turning a round, childish face up toward the beautiful one of her mother. Two sets of white eyes meet, and Hinata wonders if she will ever be as pretty as the Lady Hisa. She hopes so, prays for it with all of her young heart. And she hopes to one day have a baby of her own, someone who will sit at her feet and think how beautiful _she_ is.

"Longer!" Hisa says with a small laugh, a bit of color coming into her pale cheeks. Her thick, raven hair used to hang freely to the back of her thighs, the envy of many of the women in the great family. A few months ago, she had cut it to a more manageable length, but it still fell to her waist, perfectly straight."Of course, we'll have to find a way to tie it up. We can't have it getting tangled during your training. Imagine, trying to do the Gentle Fist taijutsu while stepping on your hair." She laughs again.

The mention of training sends Hinata's spirits plummeting. It's not that she does not want to be a ninja, because she _does_, knows that she must in order to be the clan head everyone wants her to be. It's just- Well, ninjutsu exercises were so much more fun when Brother Neji was part of them, and Father used to be so much more patient. Now, Neji hates her for some reason she cannot understand, and Father is no longer gentle. Tears well up in her pearly eyes, threatening to fall and spot her fine periwinkle kimono.

"There, my love. Don't cry." Hisa pulls a monogrammed kerchief from one of her sleeves and hands it to her daughter. Hinata turns around to dab ashamedly at her eyes- she is a big girl now, she shouldn't be weeping!- and Hisa slides off the cushion and scoots up behind the girl in order to wrap her arms tenderly around the child. Hinata leans back into her mother's soft embrace, her small spine cushioned against her mother's thighs. Hisa bends over and plants a kiss upon the child's forehead. "We have little enough time together. We should not waste it with tears."

Hinata nods and curls closer against the warm fabric of her mother's kimono, closing her eyes so that the world beyond her lids is nothing more than a sense of light. Above her head, she can hear Hisa's breathing, in and out, in and out, and feel her slow heartbeat. The sounds quickly lull her into a near trance-like state. Hinata feels safest here in her mother's lap, almost as though nothing can touch her, and she is glad her mother can finally hold her like this again. Up until a few days ago, Hisa was too big to do so.

"Are you all better now?" It's a child's question, vague but full of genuine concern.

Hisa smiles, knowing instinctively what Hinata means, and gives her little girl a squeeze. "Yes, darling. Now that your sister's been born, I'm much better." It is the truth. Hanabi's birth was hard on her, causing a host of medical problems, but Hisa had been given her own team of doctors for the delivery, and they had done an excellent job. She is doing fine now, except for some scarring, and has even been told that she could conceive again. Yes, all is as it should be, as the astrologers had foretold before her own birth. Except for this strange, nagging feeling in her heart that she just cannot seem to shake.

There is a knock on the door behind them, and Hinata jumps at the sound. Hisa pushes her up into a sitting position and then twists around to face the maid who has come in to kneel in the center of the room. After the woman's obligatory bow, Hisa smiles gently. "Yes, Kiyone, what is it?"

The woman looks nervous, half bowing once more and wringing her hands. "Please forgive the intrusion, my Lady. So sorry, but Lord Hideyoshi is here to see you."

"Lord Hideyoshi?" Hisa asks, feeling confused. What on earth could her father-in-law have to discuss with her? Ancient custom dictates that, as the wife of his son, she should be beneath his notice. Whatever the reason for this impromptu visit, Hisa knows that it cannot be good; Hideyoshi is a tyrant, who never has anything positive to say about anyone. Worry begins to catch hold of the woman, combining with the nearly overwhelming fear of Hideyoshi that she has always had. Her heart begins to pound, her breathing hitches, and her soft white hands start to tremble.

"Mother?" Next to her, Hinata looks like a small, frightened rabbit.

Hisa pulls herself together for her daughter's sake. Feigning a strength that she does not have, she glances over her shoulder at her eldest child and gives her a small smile. "Hinata, my love, your esteemed grandfather would like to have a word with me. Hopefully, I will not take up too much of his valuable time! Would you please go into the next room and sit with Hanabi for a moment?"

Hinata nods, and pulls herself to her feet, nearly tripping on the hem of her pretty kimono. Remembering her manners- so very important, these- the little girl bows to her mother. Then she walks across the long, open room like a ghost and slips through another shoji door into an antechamber. Only after she's pulled it shut with a faint click does Hisa turn back toward the maid. She smooths her hair and adjusts her kimono, brushing out a wrinkle. Then, at Kiyone's approving nod, she tucks her shaking hands into her long sleeves, squares her narrow shoulders and swallows hard. "Please, send him in."

The maid bows once more- glad that she is not in her mistress's place, about to be interviewed by the clan head- and turns back toward the closed door, intent on announcing to the man waiting outside that he may now enter. The formal words have scarcely left her lips, and the door barely opened, when Hideyoshi strides in, completely ignoring the hapless woman. The hurried way he moves and the dark energy that seems to follow him make Hisa think of a typhoon rolling into an otherwise peaceful valley.

For a man, Hideyoshi is not tall; Hisa does not know his exact height, cannot remember if he has shrunk with his age, but knows that he only has a few inches on her. Even so, the man is powerfully built, barrel-chested and thick-necked, and he carries himself well. Hideyoshi's skin is of a darker complexion than most Hyuga, and his white eyes are rumored to have been the most powerful the family has ever seen. He is a fine man to look at, even now that he is a grandfather. Hitomi would not call him handsome though. The man's face is too stern, and his wide mouth is always frowning, something she is beginning to see more and more of in his son, Hiashi.

_Oh, Hiashi_. Hisa has not seen her husband since before Hanabi's birth one week ago. Word had it that he had visited their small daughter in the nursery, and the gossipy servants, when questioned, had said that he had seemed pleased by the child. So why had he not come to visit his wife formally, as custom dictated? And, if something important had kept him away, why hasn't he come to her now and apologized for his absence? Or at least written her? His unexplained absence is like a wound to Hisa's heart, open and slowly festering.

"My Lady." Hideyoshi's deep, gravely voice draws her back to the business at hand. He does not bow, and Hisa is unsure what to make of the missing gesture. Sure, the man outranks her, but some courtesies are not to be skipped. She sketches her own bow in reply, placing her dainty fingertips upon the tatami before her and dropping her shiny head low. When she raises her eyes a few heartbeats later, peering through her thick lashes- it would be bad manners to look directly at the man- she finds that Hideyoshi is still standing, still watching her. It is unnerving.

"Would you care to sit, my Lord?" Hisa glances toward her maid, making sure that Kiyone is pulling another floor cushion from the hidden closet. As usual, the servant has read her mind, and is already bringing over a plush, deep burgundy one. It is, of course, the best one that Hisa owns, and she hopes that her father-in-law will find it pleasing. His next words make it quite clear that he does not, and they send Kiyone scurrying to discreetly return the cushion to its cubby.

"When I want to sit, I will tell you."

"Of course. Would you care for tea? Or sake?" Tradition demands that you should always offer refreshments to your guests, even if they are unwanted. Hisa is a most devout follower of tradition, having been brought up to it and, anyway, her throat is so dry that she fears she will be unable to hold a conversation. How is it, she asks herself, that other people manage this man? Her mother-in-law, Masako, for instance? Or the clan elders that Hideyoshi sees day after day? Or even her husband? How do they manage it, when she herself is so terribly afraid?

"No," Hideyoshi says rather abruptly, looking around the room. His sharp eyes seem to appraise everything, from the value of the hand painted scroll hanging in the alcove to the clothing that Hisa and her maid wear. Everything is first-rate, of the best quality available, and nothing can be considered ostentatious. And it has all been purchased with the monthly stipend she receives from her husband. Hisa has not wasted a cent, or begged for additional funds as some wives are prone to do. That should please the man, but he says nothing, except, "I am not thirsty."

"Hungry, perhaps?"

"No."

A silence falls upon the room, and neither one notices the door at the far end slide open the smallest crack, nor do they see the pale eyes that peer through. Hinata, although scared of her grandfather, is curious.

"Would you mind then, if I drank?" Hisa is mortified to have to beg the man's indulgence, to show him weakness, but she will be so embarrassed if her voice cracks. Praying that the man will not refuse her request, she looks over to see that Kiyone is lighting the brazier and making ready to boil the small green leaves. Thank goodness Hisa's parched throat will soon have some relief. And perhaps she can convince her father-in-law to change his mind, and they can sit through the calming ritual of the tea ceremony together. She cannot help but think that Hideyoshi looks as though he could use some calming.

"Do as you wish."

A moment later, Kiyone lifts the teapot away from the brazier with a hand towel and carries it over, kneeling next to her mistress and pouring the tea gracefully into the small, matching ceramic cup. There is a moment where the steam rises upward, making patterns in the air and carrying the soothing scent to Hisa's delicate nose, and then the rare porcelain cracks all the way up the side, and the dark liquid gushes out. It pools on the plate underneath and then slowly drips to the floor while the maid tries valiantly to keep it from soaking into the tatami. "I'm sorry, my Lady, I'm so sorry..."

It is the worst omen possible and, to the members of what may be Konoha's most superstitious clan, it carries great weight. From behind the shoji door, Hinata covers her tiny mouth with her hands to stop herself from gasping out loud and revealing her presence. In the center of the room, Hisa pales even further, and her eyes shoot rudely up to her father-in-law's face to see what his opinion is. She is shocked beyond belief to see Hideyoshi smiling. It is a dark, feral smile and it makes the blood chill.

_What is it he wants?_

Without further preamble, Hideyoshi reaches into his kimono at the waist, and pulls forth some sort of cylinder; After a moment's observation, Hisa realizes that it is a rolled-up scroll, one that does not seem to bear a signet. Before she can get a better look, however, Hideyoshi tosses the parchment to the pale green mats in front of her. It bounces slightly, one of the corners flapping opening, and comes to rest against her covered knee. Trembling, Hisa takes it up into her hands, but does not open it. "My Lord?"

Hideyoshi shifts slightly, spreading his feet and bending lightly at the knees as though he is about to do battle. Hisa's shock over the broken cup has been tempered by the mystery that is the scroll, and she now remembers her manners and casts her eyes back down to the floor. And that is probably a good thing, least she see the triumphant gloating across the old man's face. "Hisa Hyuga, the clan elders and I have discussed this manner at some length, and we feel you have not lived up to your duties as the family's first lady. Ten years you have been married to my son, and in that time you have not produced an adequate heir."

Hisa cannot believe the man's words; She has not produced an adequate heir? There are two in the next room! Her hand tightens around the scroll- she knows what the horrible thing is, now- knuckles whitening. Shock takes away the natural reserve she has against speaking to those ranked higher than herself. "What does this mean? What are you saying?" Her throat is so dry that her voice is nothing more than an unrecognizable whisper.

Hideyoshi does not answer her questions, just continues on. "Furthermore, I have spoken with your physician, and he says that there will be no more children forthcoming."

Her doctor told him this? Patient confidentiality aside, why would the man choose to lie to Hideyoshi, when he had told her she was still fertile just the other day? Hisa can feel the bile rise in her gorge as she realizes that the man, and perhaps the whole team of physicians, were spies all along. She should never have listened to Masako, should have seen someone from the village hospital instead. "The doctor lied to you, my Lord; Hiashi and I are still capable of having more children. And anyway, Hinata is the heir."

Hideyoshi snorts and looks skyward for a moment, as if asking the gods to give the foolish woman before him some common sense. Then he levels his piercing white gaze at her. "What would you rather have said, Madam, that you are now barren, or that your husband won't touch you? Yes, I know the truth. I know about the scarring, about how irregular your courses are becoming, and about how little Hiashi goes to your bed. And I know that we don't have another five or ten years to wait for another brat. You choose what will be said, for I don't care. And as to Hinata, we are unimpressed with her progress."

_Oh, my poor, poor baby. _

Hisa knows what is coming next, for it is not exactly without precedent. The clan has been around a long time, after all, and more than once a barren or difficult woman was forced to step aside and allow another to take her place. Sometimes the change was even violent, resulting in the death of one or more parties. Hisa cannot imagine fighting Hiashi, and she is certain there is no one else in his life, but she knows just the same that Hideyoshi's intent is for her to be stripped of her title, all because she has failed to birth a boy. Hisa suddenly has a vision of a future without herself, wherein Hinata and Hanabi are marked with the curse seal and turned into little more than pawns. It is the most frightening thing she can think of.

Inside the small, darkened antechamber, Hinata bites her lip in an effort to keep from crying out loud. Although she does not understand every word being said between the adults, she knows instinctively that this whole situation is wrong. Her grandfather should not be here, in the women's quarters, saying these things that are so obviously upsetting her mother. And why are they talking about her? She is certain that she has not done anything wrong, so why does her name keep coming up?

Knowing that he has pressed Hisa into a corner, Hideyoshi lays out the terms for her agreement. "What you hold in you hand is a scroll containing all the documents necessary for a divorce. If you consent, we will give you an allowance equal to half of what you currently receive, plus your own residence on the other side of the village; your current staff will be allowed to stay with you. You will become a branch member, and undergo the sealing. After a new heir has been produced your children will be returned to you, and you may raise them as you see fit. All you need to do is sign."

This is the most ridiculous thing that Hisa has ever heard. Her ordained marriage shall be casually dissolved, and herself made into a scapegoat to hide the real reason? Her darling girls, perfect successors to the Hyuga name, shall be disowned and later returned to her, as though they are on loan? Anger courses throughout Hisa's veins, an unfamiliar feeling that causes her cheeks to flame and her eyes to tear. Desperate to defy her father-in-law and the destiny he is attempting to force upon her, she seizes upon the only hope that she has."Has Lord Hiashi seen this?"

Hideyoshi narrows his eyes. If he is truly surprised by her dissent, he gives no indication. "He saw an earlier form of the document, yes."

Hisa ignores the first wet trail that courses down her cheek. She takes a deep breath, attempting to sound calm. "But not this one? My husband, he didn't see _this_ document?"

Hideyoshi frowns and takes a step forward, coming within arm's reach of the woman. He is not above trying to intimidate her physically. Not now, when the dried-up bitch is standing in the way of securing the family's legacy. Hideyoshi knows that they need this divorce, need this woman gone from their lives. He is confident that he can get Hiashi to agree to what has been written inside the scroll. After all, Hiashi isn't in love with Hisa now- Hideyoshi doubts that he ever was- and the man's sense of familial duty will do the rest. "What does it matter? He will agree to the terms outlined here, as they are more than fair."

Hisa persists with her argument, though she knows not from where she gets the strength to do so. It must be the thought of her innocent, helpless babies in the next room, little Hinata and the newborn Hanabi. If she does not stand up for them, play this mind-game with this evil old man who is bent upon their destruction, who will? Knowing Hideyoshi's reputation, she doubts that anyone will be brave enough to take her girls' side. "Please excuse me, I'm sorry Lord, but I'm not sure I understand. Lord Hiashi has not looked over this document? It does not bear his seal, or his signature?"

"No, my Lady." Hideyoshi's voice is laced with sarcasm, and he is at a loss. He'd never imagined that Hisa would put up this much resistance.

Hisa rolls the offending scroll back up, holds it out to her father-in-law in her right hand; He does not move forward to take it. Meanwhile, as evidence of her nervousness, her left hand rests upon her thighs, a small white fist wrinkling the material of her kimono. "Then it is not official. If my Lord Husband truly wishes for a divorce, he may come see me himself. I will not be sent away from my husband and my children when it is so obviously my responsibility, no, my destiny to stay here and see to their care. Did your own astrologers not prophesize our union, even before my birth? Have I not birthed fine children, just as they said?"

"Perhaps they did prophesize it, but it was all a load of superstitious horseshit," Hideyoshi snarls, glaring down at her. "It was foolishness, all of it, and I merely played along because it was convient to do so. My son needed a wife, someone to give me grandchildren, and a bunch of doddering idiots thought you would be a good choice. You are no more special than any other woman born into this family; Prettier, perhaps, but only two out of your five pregnancies have even made it to term. That's nothing to be proud of, a failing grade. Certainly, another woman could do better."

In the next room, Hanabi begins to cry lustily.

Hideyoshi continues, raising his voice to be heard over the noise. "And if you refuse these provisos, the next offer you get will not be half so good."

It is a threat, hardly veiled, and Hisa is absolutely terrified of what this man could do to her. All the old stories come to the forefront of her mind- how many people has her father-in-law killed?- but the wailing of her daughter reminds Hisa what she is fighting for, and she knows that she cannot back down. Not now, not ever. "That as it may be, I'm going to have to refuse. No, Lord Hideyoshi, please excuse me, but I will not be consenting to the divorce. And that's final." Her voice quavers at the end, but he does not appear to have heard it.

Hideyoshi is so angry he is shaking, and as Hisa lowers herself into her bow he raises his fist-

Hinata gasps loudly, although she cannot be heard over the sound of her baby sister who is lying in the cradle behind her. She pushes the shoji door even further open, and takes a step into the room, scared to death of drawing attention to herself but more afraid of seeing her mother being beaten. Her gentle mother who- unlike her- is not a ninja and never has been, who probably has never been struck in her life. "Stop... Please!"

At that moment, the hallway door opens again, and Hiashi is standing there, stern faced and angry that the paperwork he was attending to has been so interrupted. "What is going on in here?"

* * *

_Alright, this was getting very long, so the rest of this part of the story will be included in a future chapter. It will probably focus more on Hiashi's side of the story, as we haven't really heard from him yet. Unlike a lot of authors, I don't believe he's evil, just conflicted. Thanks for reading!_


	27. Cruelty: Hideyoshi

_Author's notes: I know everyone is still waiting for the second part of that earlier chapter. I promise that Hiashi's point of view is coming up shortly, as is more NejiTen. Something made me mad today, so I wrote about my least favorite character (and everyone else's too) Hideyoshi. This is like that earlier Masako chapter. Oh, and thank you for the reviews, you guys are great!_

**Cruelty**

Hideyoshi's entry into the world nothing short of spectacular.

His heavily pregnant mother, the clan head Lady Hitomi, had gone into the dojo with instructions to the family and staff that she was not to be disturbed. Truth be told, she was rather embarrassed because her present condition made her unable to perform the family taijutsu effectively, or with any sort of grace. If having an heir hadn't been so necessary, Hitomi would never have put herself through this humiliation.

Of course, she was probably already damned to hell for seducing a married man, anyway. When you thought of it like that, a little embarrassment was nothing, but she still had her pride.

Hitomi took a heavy step and was surprised to feel a twinge in her lower back. A punch, a kick, another ache. Lifting a leg up, struggling for balance, she is shocked to find that her water has broken.

She doesn't cry out though; she's never been weak.

In fact, she continues her exercises, performing every _kata_ until she's thoroughly satisfied. Her body begins to ache, but she sits down and begins her meditation, unconcerned. This is her first baby after all, so she's got all the time in the world.

Or so she thinks.

Thirty minutes later she yells for a maid, who rushes in and nearly faints at the sight of her mistress, stripped of all clothing and kneeling on the wooden floor, biting down on the scabbard of her small knife to keep from screaming. Hitomi's eyes are shining, but throughout the whole ordeal the tears never fall.

Her son plops rather unceremoniously to the floor not long after the maid comes.

"You should have caught him," Hitomi hisses, glancing at the terrified girl. She isn't really mad though. Her son must be strong for his role in life. Falling on the floor shall be the least of his worries.

* * *

When he is two, Hideyoshi activates the Byakugan for the first time. With its newfound power, he strikes every pinprick on the training dummy dead on, and although he does not yet know how to force chakra through his hands, he's close.

"Good," his mother says, twisting her long hair up into bun. She always makes sure to praise him.

But he shakes his head, knowing instinctively that something is not right. He isn't just supposed to hit the dummy, something else is supposed to happen as well. Angry, he feels a power build inside of him, and slaps it again. That's better.

He's well on his way to becoming the family's next leader.

Hitomi just smiles her dazzling smile.

* * *

At age four, he witnesses his first murder.

Rumor has it that the leader of the new village, the one that was formed around the time he was born, has placed spies into their household. Hideyoshi has no idea why that would be so, but his mother apparently believes it is true. She keeps him close, and tells him to mind what he says.

Not long after, she calls all the household servants together, and tells them what she knows. They look on, frightened, as she draws her knife and begins tapping it gently against her chin, waiting for one of them to confess. No one dares.

Quick as a flash, Hitomi leaps forward and slashes the throat of the one in the center. Her white eyes never leave an older lady on the end though, not even as the dying servant slumps against her, blood staining her fine kimono. The body hits the floor with a thud, and Hitomi gives a small, polite nod to the woman.

The spy pales, knowing she's been recognized. Hideyoshi marks her face for later, someone he must remember to watch. If she ever tries anything funny, he'll be sure to let his mother know.

Hitomi wipes the blade clean on the body. She purposely picked a servant without a family, one who would not be missed. And the rest will now be too terrified to report anything. Even if they do though, she has the Hokage's son. As much trouble as he was to birth, as much as she loves him, she will not hesitate to use him as leverage.

She knows he would understand.

* * *

Being six years old is tough. It is at this time that most of his peers begin attending the newly opened Ninja Academy, and Hideyoshi is desperate to go too, and prove his skills. But Hitomi chooses to keep him home, safe with her. She never tells him, but her fear is that his father might find a way to get a hold of him. She can't ever allow that to happen.

In hindsight though, forcing the boy to remain at the estate did not keep him safe.

One day, as Hideyoshi is soaking in the bath, his uncle comes in. The young man is actually only around ten years older than him, suffering growing pains and angry at his sister's supposed capitulation to the leader of the Forest Clan. He does not understand why they are part of a village now, rather than sole rulers of this part of Fire Country, and he takes his rage out on Hideyoshi, trying to drown the little boy in the tub.

Without hesitation, the heir to the clan kicks his uncle hard in the groin, slipping free as the man drops to his knees in the hot water. The little boy then whirls around, Byakugan activated, and strikes him once to the chest, right above the heart. His uncle dies choking on his own blood, foaming at the lips.

Hideyoshi feels no remorse. It is his first killing.

Later, Hitomi teaches him how to activate the Curse Seal, so he need not expend so much energy defending himself.

* * *

As a child, Hideyoshi never knew his father. Not where he was, what he did, or even his name. In a clan that could trace its origins back to antiquity, where children learned at an early age to recite the names of their ancestors ten generations back, this was a flaw. Worse yet was the fact that everyone else seemed to know, seemed to be laughing at him behind his back, as though it were some sort of sick, private joke.

Once, as he sat quietly in the corner of the dojo, waiting for his mother to finish her warm-up so she could help him with his jutsu, he dared to ask. His mother dropped out of her Rotation so quickly he thought she must have injured herself. Not even giving her whirling head time to clear, she hurried to stand over him.

"Why do you want to know? Has anyone spoken to you of it?" The hurried, anxious tones make him wish he'd never brought the subject up.

"No. I was just curious."

She eyes him for a long moment, checking for deception. Hideyoshi is only eight, but he already knows how to lie quite well. Duplicity is necessary for a ninja, even more so if you must grow to protect a clan. Despite this, he makes it a point never to lie to his mother, and after a while she turns away, believing him.

"If anyone ever discusses the matter with you, I am to know immediately. Is that clear?" Her words are punctuated by the sound of a kunai piercing a wooden target a few feet above his head.

He never even flinches. "Yes, ma'am."

* * *

When he is ten, the Hokage and his younger brother come for a visit with Hitomi. They bring with them their students, some of the Ninja Academy's first graduates. The children are left alone in the main dojo while the adults go into the main hall for a discussion.

Hideyoshi takes an instant dislike to the Mitokado boy, Homura. Maybe it's the glasses, or the smug expression. He doesn't know, but he challenges the slightly older boy to a sparring match. The kid accepts, and although Hideyoshi has had no combat instruction beyond what his mother has taught him, he wipes the floor with the boy.

He never expected that the other two, Sarutobi and Koharu, would jump in. It is the only loss he ever suffers.

As they leave, he's too busy glaring to notice the anguished look on the face of the Hokage.

* * *

At twelve, his mother asks him if he loves anyone.

He shakes his head. "I don't think I'm capable," he tells her.

Hitomi nods, smiles. "Good. You should keep it that way."

So he does.

* * *

It comes as a shock, becoming a father at age fifteen. The older, distant cousin he'd been sleeping with had sworn up and down and back and forth that she was taking birth control, but it proves to be a lie. Still, Hideyoshi wants to see his son, wants to be his father. He'd like to call him Haro.

Hitomi forbids it, not just the name but the relationship itself. She marks the child's head, and sends him and his mother north under guard.

"When you do have your children, their lineage must be without question," she tells him, thinking of all she's gone through to keep his parentage quiet. "We have no way to prove that boy was even yours. She probably lied. And anyway, I'm working on an alliance with a family from the Land of Lightning."

Hideyoshi knows she's right, but he still feels the loss.

Years later, though, when the boy develops the Byakugan and is sent back to the estate, Hideyoshi barely notices him. He's too busy dealing with the matter of his twins.

* * *

Masako is the most beautiful woman he's ever seen, and she brings with her a large dowry for the family coffers. She's smart, and interesting to talk to, although he never heeds her opinions. His mother's count for far more.

If Hideyoshi were truly capable of love, Masako would be it.

The only complaint he ever has is that she births two children that first time. It is an unprecedented event, one the forces the Hyuga to examine their way of life. In the end, they decide to stick with the tried and true sealing method, and relegate the younger child to branch status.

* * *

Placing the Curse Mark onto Hizashi's forehead is hard. So is marking the other three children that follow, but Hideyoshi remembers the attack by his uncle and knows it for the family's good.

It breaks up his marriage, though. Masako bans him from her bed, and they begin a private feud that lasts until his death.

* * *

The death of his mother is the worst moment in his life, and it is one of only two times Hideyoshi ever cries. Even so, he does it in private. Being Hyuga means going through hell, and still holding onto that pride.

After the funeral, the elders tell him that the First Hokage, long since deceased, had been his father. The knowledge is not comforting.

* * *

Hiashi becomes clan head on his twentieth birthday, although Hideyoshi continues to influence and advise him.

The massacre of the Uchiha clan by one of their own members causes the main branch a great deal of worry. They make sure to crackdown on any cadet branch dissidents. This harsh treatment continues for years.

* * *

One by one the grandchildren are born, and Hideyoshi watches them with something akin to panic. The only one with true potential is Neji, and ancient rules prohibit him from ever taking over leadership. In truth, he is an anomaly, and Hideyoshi would almost prefer to see him destroyed. He would have done it too, just as he rid the clan of the influence of the boy's mother, but Hiashi and Masako always step to the child's defense.

Hinata is a disappointment from the moment she is born. Hanabi is little better. Hideyoshi demands that his son divorce their mother, the new Lady Hitomi, and try again. Hiashi disagrees slightly, and it becomes a matter of contention between the two. When Hitomi dies, though, their differences are soon put aside.

As years pass, Hideyoshi revises his previous opinion, and decides there is hope for Hanabi. Despite her occasional tantrums and the fact that she often puts herself before others, Hideyoshi recognizes her power and urges Hiashi to choose her over Hinata. All that changes when the girl ends up in jail.

* * *

When Hinata is kidnapped and Hiashi's body demanded, Hideyoshi argues in favor of Hizashi taking his brother's place. He is surprised when his younger son selflessly agrees, and then there is one more murder to add to his list of crimes.

When the deed is done, and Hideyoshi finally alone, he weeps silently. Maybe he had loved after all.

* * *

Hideyoshi dies in his bed at the age of eighty. Although he's cremated and given a lavish funeral, his ashes buried on the grounds of the estate and his name carved into a plaque for the temple, it is little more than a play, all the clan member actors. The family is glad to be rid of him, breathing a huge sigh of relief.

Only Hiashi ever seems to realize that Hideyoshi's cruelty saved them from the decline suffered by other families.

And he's too busy doing the same to ever stand up for his father.

* * *

_A long, strange character study. Kudos to anyone who read all the way through it, and thanks._


	28. Correspondence: Neji

_Author's notes: The format for this one's a little different. There are so many stories I want to write about that I am having trouble working on any one of them, and as a result I'm not sure this is as good. Thanks for your reviews._

**Correspondence**

It's a June morning, and already hot despite the fact that the sun had entered the sky just moments before. Birds are calling, the cicadas humming, and the dew is still burning off the young, green grass. Flowers have burst open in the few untended corners inside the Hyuga's main entrance, bright splashes of color drawing in large, lazy bees.

Neji is waiting outside with his father, lost in thought and noticing none of the beauty. They've skipped breakfast this morning, and he's unsure whether the strange feeling in his stomach is hunger or something entirely different. "Does she really have to go?" His voice is plaintive, his nearly four years showing in the sentence.

Hizashi glances down at his young son and musters a smile. He's fortunate that Neji can't see the warmth missing from it. "Aren't you happy for her? She's going to go live with the Uchiha, and they'll take good care of her."

Neji gives a little shake of his head, sending long, baby-fine hair flying. No, he isn't happy. His cousin, babysitter, and best friend is leaving him, and for what? Some boy with weird, color changing eyes who touches her in funny places when he thinks other people aren't looking. Surely Neji is worth more than that?

The front door scrapes open, and Hizashi and Neji turn to look. Genji Uchiha steps out carefully, a bulging backpack strapped on and a huge suitcase in one hand. The other hand is wrapped carefully around that of Neji's cousin, Haruka, and he is guiding the girl gently down the stone steps. "Careful, easy. Step down now."

Neji doesn't like the Uchiha very much, even if he has always been friendly.

"Genji, I've gone down these stairs a million times before. I'm fine." Haruka sounds testy, but all the males know better. Neji recognizes it as her teasing voice, and Hizashi thinks that he can see her happiness even without shinning white eyes to provide a window to his niece's soul.

"Yeah," Genji says, squeezing her hand, "But you could see all those other times."

"So? I'm not that handicapped." As if to disprove her point, the toe of her sandal catches on the last low step and she nearly falls forward. Genji's hand stops her. There is a long moment where they stand still, allowing the blind Haruka to get her bearings, and then they walk over to the only two Hyuga who have come out to say goodbye.

Feeling the warmth of the sun on her skin after so long stuck in the house, Haruka smiles. "Neji?"

"Yes?" He isn't sure what he's supposed to say. No one has ever left him before, save his father who always comes right back. What do you say to someone you are never going to see again?

Haruka turns her face toward his voice, and her smile grows even larger. He's struck by how different she looks now, white eyes gone, eyelids closed as though in sleep. Why? Why had she done it? Why would she want to leave him?

"You're gonna be good, right? And do everything your dad and Aunt Hiroko tell you? I don't want to have to come back here and put you in time-out." There's laughter in her voice, but everyone hears the sadness behind the joking.

She's never put him in time-out, not even when he was bad. He suddenly regrets those few times. Maybe that's why she's going. He simply wasn't good enough. He'll try harder. "Yes, I'll be good. Do you really have to go?"

Haruka nods, feeling undone by Neji's question. She reaches out one hand until she touches his cheek. A moment later, she's kneeling in the dirt in front of him, and her lips brush awkwardly against his forehead. "Yes, I have to. But you can come see us sometime, okay?" She wraps her arms around him, and he feels her shake, as though she's crying.

Standing behind her, Genji puts his hand on her shoulder, and looks down at him. "You're welcome anytime. We'd love to have you stay with us." Genji means it, but even as he says the words he knows they will never happen. Having already given up Haruka, the Hyuga clan will hold ever tighter to what's theirs. Chances are good that Neji will not even be allowed to leave the estate until he's old enough to attend the Academy.

Haruka lets go off the little boy and climbs slowly to her feet. Turning in the general direction of her uncle, she bows very low. Genji follows her lead. "Goodbye, Uncle Hizashi. Thank you for everything."

"No, thank you." Hizashi bows back, but the pained look on his face says clearly that he would prefer to embrace her. However, prying eyes from inside the house keep him from doing so. Haruka has been publicly shunned since her incident, and if the family were to witness him being so casual with her, he and Neji would quickly become pariahs. Bad enough that he even let her hug his son, but Neji is young and the family will forget.

They might have stood like that forever, just the four of them there under the sun. Finally though, Genji takes her hand and begins to pull her gently toward the gate. If they don't leave now, the Hyuga might change their minds. And he has waited too long to have Haruka torn from him at the last moment.

"Goodbye, Uncle Hizashi. I'll see you around sometime. Bye, Neji. I love you." The hitch in Haruka's voice makes it clear that although she can no longer produce the tears, she is crying.

Neji looks as though he wants to run after them. Hizashi puts his hand on his son's head, a tender reminder to remain where he is. They watch the young couple walk away.

* * *

A month later, Haruka sends him a card congratulating him on reaching his fourth birthday. He knows he should be grateful, should be more grown up, but he can't help himself. So Neji writes her a letter back in his untidy scrawl and has his father mail it for him.

_When will you come back? I'm lonely._

* * *

_Dear Neji,_

_Genji is writing this for me, because although I have learned much about being blind, I still can't perform magic. He says hello, by the way, and he called you his cousin. You're probably wondering why, and that's the reason I'm dictating this letter to you. Neji, I'm married now! Can you believe it? I'm so happy. Last month…_

His father reads him the rest of the letter, but Neji can barely focus on the words. His young mind is a blur, struggling to process what he's heard. Haruka is married, with a husband. She's an Uchiha now. That means only one thing; she's never coming back.

Later that night, when he's alone in his room and supposed to be sleeping, a tearful Neji shreds the letter by the light of the moon.

* * *

_Dear Neji,_

_Your father came last week and spoke to us. We were so surprised to see him, but he told us that he'd been banned from the estate by Grandfather since it was Lady Hinata's birthday. I guess that means you've had the curse seal placed on you, right? I know it's very scary, but it only hurts for a little while, and at least you have a new friend. And maybe you and your father can come see us now._

Neji rubs his now marked forehead lightly with his left hand, before reaching down to scrub away the burning tears. He can't stop crying, the droplets falling and staining the bottom of the paper he's writing on. When he is finished, he'll take his letter to his aunt, and maybe she'll mail it for him. He has his doubts though.

No one cares about him anymore.

_Haruka,_

_My father is dead. They killed him._

* * *

Aunt Hiroko must have come through for him, because a few days later there is a long letter, envelope opened and contents looked at, laying in his room on his desk. He picks it up and struggles through it, big words and all, too afraid and angry to ask for help.

He doesn't really know what he was expecting, but he's disappointed all the same. The letter simply says, over and over in the most repetitive fashion, how sorry she is to hear of his father's death, how much she loves him, and how everything will be alright. As if she can understand what he's going through. What a joke.

Neji sneaks down to the kitchens, and feeds the letter into the flames of one of the old, traditional ovens. He never writes Haruka again.

* * *

That doesn't mean she stops writing him. On average, one letter a week arrives at the compound, each one already opened, sometimes censored, and telling him something different. In one she congratulations him on his entrance to the Academy, while in another she tells him how proud she is that he has the highest grades in his class. How she finds out, he never knows. Certainly no one cares enough for either of them to fill her in.

There are cards for his birthdays, good wishes every New Year. Once she sends him a letter telling him that she's going to have a baby, and that she hopes it will be a little boy every bit as beautiful as him, and maybe they can be friends despite the fact that it might have red eyes.

Neji never responds, doesn't even save the letters, but they are each precious to him, every one committed to memory before being destroyed.

* * *

And then more than a month passes without word from Haruka. Although the compound goes under lockdown for a few days, much like when Hinata was nearly kidnapped, Neji thinks nothing of it. It's just another way for the main family to prove how much control they have. Certainly nothing to be concerned about, and the world soon returns to normal.

Upon returning to the Academy after a few days' absence, he hears the whispers. The Uchiha clan is gone. Every last one of them, save that little boy Sasuke, was murdered by one of their own. That day he actually fails the test that is given, too worried to concentrate. Time drags by, and it is the longest afternoon of his life.

As soon as they are dismissed, he rushes home and asks his aunt for the truth. Hiroko just sighs and for once looks him straight in the eye. "This was delivered earlier this afternoon. We weren't even sure you should have it." She hands him a letter, opened like all the rest. At least they've had the decency to refold it this time.

Neji goes to his room to read it in private. There are just a few sentences, telling him how excited she is that her baby will be born soon, that it will be a boy. And then, in the middle of her mentioning that maybe they could meet somewhere, it just stopped. One large, black blot in the center, as though someone had dropped the ink brush, and the rest of the page was stained with reddish-brown droplets of what must be blood.

So it was true. After everything Haruka went through to leave, all she had to give up, it had ended this way. His cousin, the closest thing he'd ever had to a mother, was dead. And they didn't care enough to notify him until well after the fact.

As he rips the letter into little pieces, Neji thinks that perhaps his clan deserves to go the way of the Uchiha.

* * *

_And we're back to good old angst-y Neji. Hurray for us. Out of curiosity, what's been your favorite chapter so far? And why?_


	29. Dissolution: Hiashi and Hisa

_Author's notes: Here it is, the promised Hiashi chapter. Long, and I hope you like it, although I personally feel it fell apart at the end. Any thoughts will be appreciated. _

**Dissolution**

It is the second week of spring in the tenth year of Hiashi Hyuga's reign as clan head and, despite the fact that it is raining gently, most people would consider it a beautiful day. The light filters through the low gray clouds into the ancient house, and though it is weak and hazy it manages not to feel dreary, but new and clean in the way of the season. The timber building is abnormally quiet; most of the family, lulled by the steady pitter patter of raindrops upon the tile roof, is either sleeping or meditating. For once the world of the Hyuga is quiet, hushed, and perfect.

Although Hiashi is enclosed in his small, cramped study, far away from the everyday distractions of the household, he is finding that he cannot concentrate. He ate more at lunch today than he should have; the food, combined with the weather and the mundane task before him are conspiring to put him to sleep. His pearl white gaze roams the mountains of paperwork and musty tomes strewn across the old low desk before him, and Hiashi feels despair rise at the sight. Today there are fifty petitions before him, tomorrow there will be more, and the day after that there will be still others. Hiashi will never finish all this, not even if he works the night through as well.

_Karma_, Hiashi thinks, doing his best to ignore the paper pillars that seem to be reaching for the low ceiling. Resigning himself to his labors- with a mood much like that of a child with an excess of homework- he turns to look for his ink brush and paper weight. Hiashi's eyes fall upon a thick, folded piece of rice paper laying at the very edge of the table. Among all the records and requests, this stands out, shocking in its simplicity. A small note- the sticky backed kind- has been attached to it, and he recognizes his sister Hiroko's steady handwriting:_ I think you should look at this._

Interested, Hiashi picks it up and carefully unfolds it. It is from the Ninja Academy; written neatly on the inside are his nephew Neji's grades and rank in his current classes. Neji is first in nearly everything, with almost perfect scores, and his teachers write high praise of him. There is one group where the boy has ranked second, but that is some ridiculous class dealing with the history of weaponry. What kind of person had beaten him? It matters little in his uncle's opinion, for all in all the child has the best scores in his whole grade. Hiashi, who has not given the boy much thought in recent months, cannot help but be impressed.

_Hizashi, his scores are even better than yours were. He truly is a genius…_

The thought of his younger brother, dead on a rainy day so like this one, brings Hiashi's mood back down. He slowly refolds the report card and then, because he does not know what else to do with it, slips it into a nearby filing cabinet, closing the drawer with a thump and locking it with a heavy iron key pulled from his kimono sleeve. Hiashi wishes he could so easily lock away memories of his twin, his missing other half. His next thought is shockingly honest, even to himself: _I was ready to die that day; sometimes, I wish I'd had._

Twisting away from the filing cabinet, Hiashi catches sight of his reflection in the small window to his right. Here in the main family's portion of the house, the windows are glass, rather than the traditional empty hole and heavy shutters. This is because of the air conditioner; No use paying for something if it is going to flood right out of a badly sealed home. But thoughts of summer relief are of little comfort when your dead twin is staring you in the face, his visage sad and seeming even more so due to the rain streaks sliding down the glass behind his almost transparent head.

Hiashi smacks the table hard with his palm, and the noise and pain break the spell of his haunting twin and allow him to tear his gaze away. Damn it, this was why he had ordered all the mirrors taken down! The tears pool threateningly at the corners of his eyes, but he brushes them aside, slightly ashamed. Shinobi are not supposed to cry, and Hyuga are the epitome of ninjahood. As the clan head, he is expected to be the best, the perfect example for the most noble family. He will not spoil their delusions, so he composes himself, face settling into the stern mask he has so lately become accustomed to wearing, and gets to work.

Spotting his ink brush, Hiashi picks it up and returns to the form he was reading before the lunchtime interruption. In the blank space at the bottom of the page he scribbles his name in jet black characters, noting the strange paradox of the characters for 'daylight' and 'sun' against the weather outside. Knowing that man has no power of the climate, Hiashi reaches for another sheet of paper. He does three more petitions in quick succession- authorizing this or that, and setting them aside to dry and be filed- and is reading over the fourth when his work is interrupted by a grating, annoying noise.

Oddly enough, someone else has begun to wail from one of the ground floor rooms. Hiashi recognizes it as the cry of a baby, and a moment later realizes that the sound is his newborn daughter, Hanabi. Knowing that either his wife or a maid will attend to the child in a moment, he shifts his grip on the brush and signs another piece of paper. The baby does not stop, though, and Hiashi feels his already fragile temper rise. He activates the Byakugan to see what is going on, but special seals posted in this part of the house prevent him from seeing through the walls. It is the one time in his life that he curses the privileges that give the main family their privacy.

Annoyed at being blind, Hiashi gives up his pitiful attempt, and instead decides to just work through the interruption. Upon the next request, however, he irritably swipes the brush too heavily across the paper. The fine hairs bend every which way, and the ink ends up deposited in dark pools. It runs, leaving his signature nearly unreadable, and with the humid air, he knows that it will never dry. "Damn it," he mutters, crumpling the paper and tossing it into the wastebasket at the other end of the room. Things go missing all the time; one of the elders will just have to submit the document again. Of course, that means more work for him.

Downstairs, the pitch of Hanabi's sobs rises, the sound echoing loudly throughout the empty corridor. Hiashi rubs at his aching temples and resists the urge to grimace: How exactly is he supposed to concentrate with that noise? The man decides he has had enough. Placing the brush carefully upon the ceramic tray, although he'd like nothing better than to slam it down and let its ink spot everywhere, he stands and treads silently from the small room, anger evident in every quick motion. Someone will be fired for this, for neglecting his child and disturbing the all important harmony of the household.

Hiashi strides quickly down the hall toward the source of the sound, like a hunting hound after prey, the very speed of his movement causing his long hair to breeze backward and kimono hem to flap open. A maid coming up the wide stairs catches sight of him and turns around, fleeing fearfully back down to the ground floor. Hiashi follows her, taking the steps two at a time, and as they reach the bottom neck and neck she ducks under the stairwell to hide. If he were thinking clearly, he would chastise her for her rudeness, but with this noise he _cannot think at all._

The sound becomes louder the closer Hiashi gets, and reaches a crescendo as he stops in front of his spouse's spacious rooms. Here he pauses, and takes a deep breath, noting that the small physical exertion has taken its toll; he needs to exercise more. Now he can recognize other sounds, that of two voices speaking behind the thin paper doors. He is surprised to hear his wife Hisa, her tremulous voice uncharacteristically raised- is she trying to be heard over the sound of the child? Hiashi has never known the woman to neglect her babies. What is going on?

Hiashi grabs the door and slides it open with such force that it bounces and nearly comes out of the tract. The scene before him is chaos: His wife is kneeling in the center of the room, fine kimono spread around her, her body lowered in a bow. Next to her the tatami is stained with something that looks like tea, and behind her is a nervous maid- Hiashi cannot remember her name, but she has always served his wife- who glances from him to her mistress and back again. His father, Hideyoshi, stands tensely before Hisa. His fist is upraised, as though he will strike her and he is literally shaking with anger.

"What is going on here?" Hiashi has to yell to be heard over the baby in the anteroom.

The world returns to normal in slow motion. Hisa lifts her silky head, dark hair falling back away from her lovely face, and her shocked white eyes meet his own. There is some emotion in them that Hiashi does not recognize, and he realizes that this is the first he has seen her since Hanabi was born more than a week ago. Before he can further analyze the woman, she remembers her manners and flattens once more upon the floor. At the same time, Hideyoshi's fist comes down, dropping sluggishly to rest at his side. His mask slipping back into place; he shows no emotion whatsoever, just a hardness. It is the same face Hiashi himself wears, and in that moment that he realizes he has become his father.

_Gods, when did that happen?_

Shaking off the unwanted thought, Hiashi glances around the room again, trying to get a better feel for what has been going on. From inside the antechamber, Hanabi has finally ceased her wailing, leaving an empty silence. He looks over toward the door, expecting to see a maid finally attending her, someone that he can quickly dispense his rage upon. Instead, he sees his elder daughter Hinata peering around the half-open shoji, eyes wide and frightened. Something about the sight- perhaps the realization that both of his children have suffered- makes Hiashi angrier.

"Hiashi-"

"Get out." Hiashi holds his hand up, cutting off his father and forestalling any explanation from the man. He has never spoken thusly to his parent- filial duty has been beaten into him from a young age- and he never will again, but right now he is just so mad. Although he is confused as to the situation, he knows instinctively that his father is the one at fault. How dare Hideyoshi come into Hisa's rooms? As his daughter-in-law, tradition demands that she should be beneath his notice. How dare he stand here and cause discord? How dare he frighten Hiashi's daughters? "Just leave."

Hideyoshi pauses for a moment, staring at his eldest son, for once unsure of his course of action. Should he stay and argue his defense? Try to convince Hiashi that things are not as they seem? As the father of the current clan head, he can do most anything he wishes, and his son, if challenged, will probably back down and relent. But the hard look in Hiashi's eyes tells him that if he were to push it, all control over the young man would slip away. Hideyoshi might one day need that control, so he bows stiffly and marches from the room, pulling the door shut behind him.

"My Lord," Hisa whispers, ever formal. She lifts her face but not her eyes. "I'm so sorry you were disturbed, but your honored father, Lord Hideyoshi came in and-"

Hiashi gives his head the barest of shakes, stopping his wife in mid-sentence; if she is hurt by this, she gives no indication. He turns away, barely even aware of her presence. Hisa is like that, like a rare porcelain doll- beautiful but inanimate- and Hiashi easily puts her out of his mind. She is too complacent, and always has been. He focuses instead upon his daughter. "Hinata, come here."

The small girl leaves the relative safety of the doorway, sliding forward into the long room, nearly trembling in her little lilac kimono and white _tabi_ socks. She comes to stand before him, and gives the obligatory bow, but it lacks grace and is overly deep considering her station in life. From his height, all Hiashi can see is her slouching shoulders, drooping head and lowered eyes. "Father?" Her voice is almost impossible to hear, so quiet after all the noise of the last few moments.

Looking down at her, Hiashi has a moment of clarity so profound as to be indescribable. The posture of this little girl, and the tone of her voice, are far too suppliant. She stands there like some pathetic branch member, almost afraid of her shadow, and not the proud heir of their noble clan. Where is her strength?

Hinata slumps the way his brother Hizashi did, long before he gained a little self esteem from his ninja career. She disappears in a way that Neji would never. Hiashi has to ask himself: Is it because she is a girl? If that is the case, there is no hope for either of his children.

Or could her behavior be the product of something else? The effect of some external factor? Hiashi glances over his shoulder at his wife; Hisa has remained sitting patiently, but she has shifted around slightly and her eyes are now lingering tenderly upon their daughter. Has Hinata been spending too much time with her? Is she picking up on Hisa's timidity? Perhaps, Hiashi thinks, and though it goes against family tradition he resolves to enroll her in the Ninja Academy at the next opportunity. A little more separation will be good for the two of them; there is, after all, nothing that Hisa can teach the girl about running a clan.

"Hinata, straighten up." Hiashi intends for the reminder to be gentle, hopes that with the prompt Hinata's carriage will improve. It almost works; the girl jumps to attention briefly, and lifts her dark head, but immediately her hands come up in front of her narrow chest and she begins wringing them. Watching the pale, nail-bitten appendages circle each other is very distracting, and it only serves to increase Hiashi's annoyance. "Tell me, what happened here?"

Hinata glances nervously toward her mother, seeking some kind of reassurance; her father sounds so angry! There is a tightness in Hisa's face that she does not find comforting, and so she turns her eyes toward the maid she has known since birth. Kiyone's face is carefully blank, however, the visage of a servant trying to go unnoticed. The hallway door seems so far away and, anyway, Hinata cannot imagine running, so finally she looks back at her father and resolves to answer. Hinata gulps and begins to speak, stuttering in a manner Hiashi finds incredibly aggravating. "Grandfather, h-he came in and…"

"He what, Hinata? What did your grandfather do? Speak up now, you aren't a baby." Hiashi's voice comes out harsh, much more severe than he intends. His burning anger has yet to really find a suitable outlet- the cause of his work's interruption being not a lazy maid but his own family, and therefore much harder to deal with- and it is instead turning toward his daughter. Hinata flinches at the tone and her bottom lip begins to tremble. Pearly eyes fill with tears, and they do not help Hiashi's mood.

Hisa shuffles awkwardly forward, still upon her knees- her husband is in a bad mood, and she does not wish to antagonize him with bad manners, especially as she has not seen him in more than a week. Still, she cannot in good conscience sit by and watch little Hinata suffer. Hisa kneels beside her child and places a delicate hand upon the girl's small shoulder as a gesture of moral support. Then she turns her eyes up to Hiashi, entreating. "Please, my Lord, I'll tell you everything. Poor Hinata, she just doesn't understand what she saw. She's scared."

Looking down at the two of them, so very alike, Hiashi asks himself: Will Hinata always be terrified? How will she take her place in the family, no, in the world if she is too afraid to answer a question? If she needs her mother to do it for her, where will the clan end up? Hiashi's thoughts become words, only they come out bitterly and not quite as the gentle reprimand he intends for his wife. "Why do you coddle her so? She doesn't need to be protected, not by you."

Hisa's eyes go wide, and her mouth drops open in shock. One hand flies to cover her heart as though she has been wounded. The other one, still on Hinata's thin shoulder, squeezes so hard that the already pale knuckles go white and the little girl shrugs uncomfortably. A few heartbeats later, Hisa seems to regain some bit of composure, although she mouths words silently before finally finding her voice. "Please," she whispers, and Hiashi notes that she does indeed sound hurt, "please, Husband, not in front of the children."

Hiashi nods then- this could get messy, and he has no desire to traumatize his daughters- and gestures for the maid to take Hinata away. Glad to be dismissed, Kiyone bows to the three Hyuga, picks up the little girl, and makes an almost improperly hasty dash for the door leading to the rest of the house. As the two step into the hallway, Hiashi notes that Hinata has no qualms clinging to the woman, almost as though she is still a toddler. Another bit of behavior to be rectified.

Once the door has been closed, Hiashi takes a seat upon the floor across from his wife. Fixing his attention upon her pretty face, he nods for her to get on with the story. She begins to speak quietly, submissively, and Hiashi finds his mind wandering. His father has been after him lately to divorce Hisa, to try and produce another heir, someone who will not flinch when their name is called. Hideyoshi claimed that Hisa was the problem; did she not, after all, have a hard time carrying the children to term? Weren't all her babies born females? And did the woman not fuss over them excessively, like a mother hen who cannot let go?

As the years roll by, seeing Hinata's growth-or lack of it- Hiashi is beginning to realize that his father is at least partly right. He does not want to deprive his children of their mother, not the way he himself was once deprived of his brother Hizashi. And, knowing that her children are her life, Hiashi has no wish to make Hisa suffer, but he is coming to understand that his wife and daughters would be better off separated, at least for some time. Hisa's faults, those incredibly ladylike virtues that she prides herself in, must not be passed on to their children. His girls must be strong.

Hisa is still speaking, her voice very soft and the sound of it nearly drowned out by the rain visible through the open shoji. Hiashi realizes that she has been talking for sometime, and although he had tried to read her cerise lips with half a mind, there is no telling how much of the conversation he has missed. Certainly, she must be close to finished, so he makes a greater effort to pay attention. "Lord Hideyoshi said that the elders had decided to send me away, that I would be divorced, and that my children would be returned to me when you had- please excuse me- produced a new heir."

"He what?" Hiashi sits up a little straighter, and feigns more shock than he feels. Really, he is not all that surprised, for his father has always been one to solve a problem, and Hisa is rapidly becoming one.

Hiashi has never really loved her. When they were younger, he did feel an affection for Hisa; she was his cousin, after all, raised along with his family almost as a sister. Knowing her to be trustworthy, she became his confidant during his teenage years, if not necessarily his friend. And he had certainly lusted for her in the physical sense; his own virginity had hampered their wedding night, rather than any qualms about their blood relationship. But that was two children and numerous heartaches ago, and ten years of Hisa's vapidity have dulled that old fondness to little more than a weary tolerance. Hiashi would like to be free of her.

That is not to say that he really agrees with his father, though. Hiashi is willing to divorce Hisa, but he has no plans to just jump the next woman who comes around, to rush into another marriage. In his experience, becoming a husband and father is a rather stressful and difficult thing. Furthermore, there is the little matter of what to do with his present children. Despite his unending irritation with Hinata, he loves her. And he barely knows Hanabi yet. The newborn just might turn out to be something special. Hiashi would like to see that.

"Your Honorable Father gave me this," Hisa says, as she pulls a wrinkled, partially rolled scroll from the deep sleeve that she had instinctively hid it in the moment her husband had barged into her room. Despite being tormented by the old man, Hisa ingrained sense of duty remained strong and she had been willing to withhold the evidence and allow her father-in-law to save face. Of course, her husband takes precedence over Hideyoshi, and since he wishes to know the truth… She holds it out to Hiashi formally, using both pale, delicate hands. "The Lord told me to sign it, and said that it was the best offer I would get."

Hiashi takes the scroll from her and unrolls it further. He reads it through once, and then rereads it, and all the while his stomach tosses and turns with the various emotions warring within him. Anger, doubt, and fear twist in his gut, but also elation and hope. This document, although not exactly what he wants, is what he needs, if only he has the courage to sign it. Hiashi's eyes fall upon his wife, still sitting across from him. Her face is stunningly blank, her body still as a statue. She is utterly forgettable. He feels a moment of pity for her, the poor thing; she has only ever done what she's been told, but then again, so has he.

Hiashi makes up his mind. "Please, fetch me some ink." It is a simple request, quietly spoken, and yet it carries the greatest import. Those five words have sealed Hisa's fate, and he is very surprised when she rises gracefully and goes to the low cabinet at the far end of the room to retrieve the said supply. Perhaps she doesn't realize what it is he intends? He marvels at her continued subservient behavior as she pulls out an ink stone and begins to mix water to it.

Hiashi moves to a small table, the one that is meant for Hisa's correspondence. His wife, however, has no friends in the outside world, and so she hardly ever uses it; today, like most days, it is immaculate. He lays the scroll out across it, weighs the corners down with pieces of a broken porcelain cup that he finds nearby on the floor. Hisa appears at his side and wordlessly hands him the ink, plus one delicate brush. Looking at the carved handle and fine bristles, he realizes that it was one of her wedding gifts, perhaps the one from Hokage Sarutobi. Fate is making this difficult.

"You are going to sign it, aren't you?" There is no bitterness in Hisa's voice, just a strange hitch that his ears miss, but Hiashi is still surprised. It may be the first time in their whole lives that she has ever addressed him without an honorific. For a moment, it is almost like they are normal people, individuals who are not bound so tightly by heavy things like honor and duty and tradition. But that is, of course, ridiculous- they are Hyuga.

Hiashi does not answer. Instead he slowly reads the document a third time, striking through the parts that he does not agree with. Hisa shall get her full allowance, not the half that his tightwad father suggested, and a fully furnished house on the other side of the village. Her unlined forehead will not be marred with the curse seal. She has not ever been considered a branch member, not even before their wedding, and Hiashi will not have her made a slave now. Their children shall live with him- Hiashi is their primary tutor- but they will still be _theirs_, and given unsupervised visitations with their mother.

"Please don't," Hisa whispers, and the tears begin to fall.

Hiashi adds a few things, changes a word here and there. He sneaks in a clause stating that his children, both those already living and any yet to be born, for reasons of undecided succession, will never be sealed. This will not go over well with the council of elders, for it breaks the long established practice and does not add members to their cadet branch. They can say what they wish, for Hiashi is the clan head now, and as such his word is final. "The girls will not suffer," he promises Hisa. His wife nods, bringing up the sleeve of her fine kimono to hide her face and her shame.

Hiashi reads over it a final time, making sure it is coherent, that there are no flaws to be misinterpreted by angry old relations. Satisfied, he signs his own name across the bottom- this signature looks so much better than his other, earlier one- and pauses for the ink to dry. His eyes find the dark tea stain in the tatami, and he allows them to rest there, waiting. A pace behind his right shoulder, Hisa is still crying silently, her tears mirroring the silvery rain that is visible through the open shoji doors across the room.

The day is no longer beautiful.

After countless heartbeats and innumerable droplets, Hiashi stirs into motion. He slides the now dry scroll over to the right side of the table, this side being the closest to his wife. Then he inches over a fraction, moving to give her space at the desk; inclining his head toward her- Hiashi can afford to be courteous now- he motions for Hisa to scoot forward. She does, sliding with poise across the floor until she is sitting next to him, shoulder to shoulder. They are so close together, and yet have never been so very far apart. "Please read over this, and make sure it's to your liking."

"Excuse me, but how can this document be to my liking? I do not wish for a divorce, Husband." Although Hisa's lachrymose white eyes are visible above the edge of the gilded kimono, her lips are still covered, and her voice is muffled. She sounds suddenly resentful, which is strange after her earlier resignation- perhaps she is hysterical? Whatever the reason, Hiashi is surprised that she is arguing with him. Perhaps if she had done so sooner, showed some sort of spark during their ten years of marriage, it would never have come to this.

"Please, just read it," Hiashi insists.

Hisa turns her dark head away from both him and the divorce settlement. "Read it to me, please. I have no wish to stain your fine handiwork with my tears."

Hiashi cannot tell if she is being sarcastic or just sensible, and his inability to read into her behavior is beginning to annoy him. Either way, he does not need her smearing his work, so he picks up the scroll as a kindness to them both. "Very well," he murmurs, holding it just a little too tightly, and begins to read. With every sentence, with each stipulation and concession, Hisa's little world falls apart. Even so, she keeps herself in control, never interrupts or disturbs him. How did it come to this?

When Hiashi is done, he lays the paper back down, passes Hisa the brush. Blinking, she turns back to the table, and holds the instrument perfectly vertical in her hand, the traditional calligraphy position. The ink dark tip is poised above the thick paper, so close that Byakugan would be needed to see the space between. And then Hisa's whole body freezes, even the unceasing tears pausing for a moment. "I can't," she whispers, although she knows in her heart that Hiashi has been more than generous with his terms. "I can't do it, I'm so sorry."

_Her weakness is Hinata's…_

Hiashi feels the anger boil up again, struggles to keep it in check. His eyes bore into the wavering brush, willing it to move, to write. For all their sakes', he wants this whole mess with Hisa done and over with, and her lingering hesitation has wiped away his desire to be compassionate and magnanimous. "You realize that your signature is nothing more than a formality? That it is just an agreement to the things I've specified? Without it, we can still be divorced, and it could be- no, if it goes before the council it will be argued that I owe you nothing."

Hiashi sounds so callous, so like his father, and Hisa finally realizes what she has long suspected in the back of her mind: her husband no longer loves her. She feels her heart split in two, swears that it crumbles to dust inside her chest. Brokenhearted or not, there is nothing to be gained by delaying- she is only upsetting him further- and so Hisa takes a deep breath, allowing the air to fill her aching lungs. The tears begin to fall faster; will they ever stop? She has never been so informal as she is now, begging. "Promise me that I will always be allowed to see them. Please, Hiashi?"

Crossing his arms over his chest, Hiashi lifts his eyes from the static brush to his wife's grief-stricken face. He is unsure what to tell the woman; all along, his intentions have been to remove her tightly interwoven presence from the fabric of their daughters' lives. Or, at the very least, to loosen said strings. But he will not give her the power to barge into the household and see them at a moment's notice. If Hisa has too much freedom, the only person he will have saved will be himself, and that is unacceptable. "If you do not sign, I cannot promise you anything."

In the next room, Hanabi begins to cry again. Knowing that the maid will not return while he is present, Hiashi rises, intent on going into the other chamber and checking on her. The movement of her husband combined with the sad sound of her youngest child drive Hisa over the edge, and she slowly brings the tip of her brush into contact with the paper, forming one delicate character after another until her whole name and soul, her very being, lies scrawled across the page like some sick mockery of her life.

It is done. Their marriage is as good as disbanded.


	30. Parenthood: Hinata and Naruto

_Author's notes: Wow, you all got kind of riled up with the last chapter. After all the depressing stuff lately, here's a little ray of sunshine in the form of a rather happy family moment. Oh, and Haruhi makes a comeback here, so if you don't remember, she is Hanabi's daughter who is being raised by Naruto and Hinata._

**Parenthood**

Night has fallen, the numerous stars twinkling brightly in the clear dark sky overhead. Another long and weary day has reached its end, and Naruto Uzumaki cannot help but be glad. Who knew that being Hokage was so tiring? He is beginning to see why Tsunade abdicated years ago. Oh well, this was always his dream, and he would not trade it for the world. At least now, with his mountains of work done for the day, he can go home and get some rest.

Home is actually located inside the walled area around the Hokage's Tower, a nice house adjoining the famous building where he works. It is just another great advantage to being the village leader: no commuting. Walking across the lawn, he nods politely to the ever present guards, and hums a jaunty little tune. The house comes into view, the little rectangle windows blazing with the light from within. It is a welcoming sight, one that never fails to impress Naruto. He has a home now, and a family.

The delicious smell of dinner wafts to meet his nose the moment he opens the door, and his stomach gives a loud gurgle in response. Stepping into the open formal room, he shrugs off his heavy robes of office, letting them pool onto the floor. Naruto stretches then, luxuriating in the feel of his loose black sweats. "Hey, Hinata," he calls loudly, smiling at the thought of his lovely wife and food, "That smells really good. Almost like Ichiraku ramen or something!"

Hinata steps from the kitchen carrying a large pot of tea and smiles back at him. She looks a little frazzled, long hair slipping from the bun she had done it in that morning, pearl eyes tired, but still beautiful. "That's because it is," she responds with a smile. "Haruhi and I just got back from the estate a little while ago, and I didn't have time to make anything. We're very lucky Ichiraku delivers now."

"They deliver?" Naruto practically yelps in excitement, following her into the cozy traditional dining room. It is sparsely furnished, with a low gleaming wooden table and four silken cushions. All in all, very different from the apartment he lived in as a kid, but similar to Hinata's childhood home, so it is comfortable for at least one of them. They take their seats, he at the head of the table and Hinata on his right. An eager Haruhi is already waiting on the left.

"Well, when they heard it was for the Hokage, they decided to. Miss Ayame came over here herself. She sends her regards." Hinata sets the warm teapot gently onto the dark lacquered table and begins to pass out the chopsticks. One pair for Haruhi, bouncing quietly in her seat, one for Naruto, and one for herself. Then come the napkins, essentials in this house.

"Ha! What did she think of the Hokage's mansion?" Naruto is having the time of his life trying to imagine the ramen mistress's reaction. He breaks his chopsticks easily, points them with an exaggerated flair towards Hinata. "I'll bet her mouth dropped open and everything."

"She was very impressed. Could you help Haruhi, please?" His wife asks, her full concentration on ladling the steaming ramen from the delivery container into three white ceramic bowls. One is much smaller than the others, a scaled down version. Hinata never spills even one drop of the precious liquid, and the running joke is that this is the reason Naruto married her in the first place.

"Oh, sure." Naruto turns to face the person on the other side of the table and smiles widely, bright blue eyes crinkling shut in happiness. Save Hinata, and it is very close, mind you, he loves no one like Haruhi. To him, it matters little that she is not his own flesh and blood, and he holds out his hands to provide assistance. "Hey, Squirt, can't get those? Here, let me help you."

Due to a tragedy before her birth, Haruhi is at least partially deaf. Since she is only two years old and far too young to undergo rigorous testing, her adoptive parents are still learning the full extent of her disability. Hinata has begun teaching her some of the ninja sign language in a desperate attempt to communicate better with her. Naruto, who has always been obnoxiously loud, has no such problem. Haruhi hears and understands him just fine.

So when he smiles at her she giggles, the pure sound that only a well loved child knowing nothing of the horrors of the world can make, and hands over her still stuck together chopsticks. Naruto breaks them apart with a snap and passes them back, making sure the small, chubby fist gets a good grip on the thin wooden utensils. "There now, are you going to be a big girl and eat up all the ramen?"

Haruhi laughs harder, white eyes twinkling, pale skin reddening, and small body rocking with her mirth. Both parents think it is weird to see a Hyuga have hysterics. Odd, but not at all unwelcome, and they pause for a long moment to simply watch the happy child.

"All she does is eat," Hinata says, but her words are tender. She begins doling out the food, her movements graceful. "Earlier today, while I was attending that meeting with my father, she kept reaching up to the table and stealing everyone's sweets. You should have seen all the council elders; they were so upset, but what could they do?"

Naruto is already halfway through his bowl of ramen, never mind that it is still hot enough to scald. "What happened then?" he asks, but his mouth is so full that Hinata does not understand him. He swallows loudly and tries again, voice concerned. "I mean, she didn't get in trouble, did she? You didn't punish her, right? She doesn't know any better."

Hinata believes that Haruhi truly does know better, but she is a very mischievous child and often gets away with things she should not because Naruto finds her simply too endearing and most people use her handicap as an excuse. Hinata had never really planned on being the family disciplinarian, but as time goes by it is becoming increasingly clear that she will have to be. Naruto is no help at all.

Haruhi is reaching for Naruto's hot bowl, because his is much bigger and therefore _must_taste better, even though they are all eating the very same thing. He gently pushes her tiny hand away, not wanting her to get burned. "No, no, Haruhi. This is mine. Eat yours, like a good girl."

Haruhi frowns at his words, feeling slightly rejected, and goes back to her own small bowl. She abandons her chopsticks in favor of her fat baby fingers, carefully lifting little pieces of food to her mouth. The noodles quickly disappear into the gaping maw or down the front of her shirt.

Naruto turns back to Hinata, returning to his previous train of thought. "What did you do?"

His wife stirs her ramen slowly, waiting for it to cool to a more reasonable temperature. Unlike the other two members who make up her small nuclear family, she has a little thing called patience. "I eventually sent her from the room so that we could have some peace, and Aunt Hiroko watched over her for the rest of the afternoon. But no, she didn't get in any trouble. Father just thought she was so adorable, I didn't dare criticize her."

Naruto nods thoughtfully before reaching over and taking another heaping helping of ramen. Even after all these years, after being reinstated as clan heir, Hinata is still painfully afraid of disappointing her father. She speaks out now at the family meetings, helps make the most difficult decisions, but never really argues against him. And who can blame her? Naruto will willingly admit that he is even a little bit afraid of Hiashi. "Did anything else happen today?"

Hinata shakes her head, causing another long strand of hair to dislodged itself from its prison. Catching sight of Haruhi holding up her empty plastic cup, she reaches over and pours a few more sips of tea into it. "Two hands," she reminds the little girl, but her voice is so soft that she is not heard. Hinata quickly tries to sign the reminder, but it is of no use. Haruhi takes a big gulp, dribbling most of the dark liquid down the front of her shirt. At least Hinata had changed her out of her good clothing as soon as they returned home.

"I got a weird request today," Naruto says, scissoring up a large glob of delicious noodles. He deposits them into his own mouth, chews madly for a moment. After swallowing he adds, "Gai's team is asking for some time off. They _never_want time off. Odd, huh?" He can still remember being young and yearning so desperately to train with the older kids. Back then, no one had trained like Team Gai.

Hinata bolts upright, cheeks coloring slightly. "Oh, that reminds me! There was something else that happened today; I learned something very interesting from Aunt Hiroko." She lays her chopsticks across the top of her bowl and waits for her husband to question her about it.

Naruto does not care very much for Hinata's aunt. The old woman looks like a hag and has a foul temper when it comes to him, but since Hinata is excited, it must be something interesting. Maybe a good, juicy bit of gossip that somehow has escaped his ears thus far. "What was that?" he asks around another mouthful, eyes intent on her.

Hinata smiles, and it is bright like the sun. "Tenten is pregnant."

Naruto actually chokes upon his food, he is laughing so hard. Hinata begins patting him sharply on the back, worried. Was it something she said? Who knew her husband would react so badly to the news? Hinata had been very happy to hear it. Haruhi just looks up from where she is slurping her own ramen, as if to say her father is crazy. Why waste good food like that?

Throat finally cleared, Naruto turns his pinkish face towards Hinata. It is alight with glee and a lack of air, and contrasts sharply with his golden locks. "That would explain why they want time off. How far along is she? Is it going to be soon?"

Hinata shakes her head, relieved that Naruto is as glad as she is. "I didn't talk to her myself, so I'm not sure. Tenten was out at one of the training grounds behind the house, throwing things at Brother Neji, from what I heard. But Hiroko said she's maybe two months along, and the my aunt has had a lot of experience, so I trust her."

Naruto nods, and begins to laugh again. Hinata suddenly thinks she knows where Haruhi learned the hysterics from. Her husband really is a hyperactive knucklehead, but she loves him terribly.

"I wonder what Neji thinks of all this?" Naruto ponders aloud. He frowns with thinking so hard, eyes shutting briefly, and then leaps up silently and gracefully from the table. Hinata leans back, small hands coming up to cover her mouth, startled. Haruhi jumps, knocking her chopsticks from the table, her sharp white eyes having just registered the speedy movement that her tiny ears never caught.

"Can't you just see his face at those three a.m. feedings?" As if to prove a point, Naruto puts his hands together and performs the Transformation Jutsu. Suddenly, Neji is standing there, wearing his customary frowning expression, plus some very sleepy eyes. Naruto gives a low little growl, imitating the always irritated Hyuga almost perfectly. "Hey, we can tell him that diaper changing is his fate!"

"Naruto..." Hinata warns, finding it a more than little disconcerting, the sight of her husband wearing her cousin's face. Haruhi climbs to her feet and toddles over to her cranky so-called uncle, only to have him transform back into her father in a puff of smoke. Shocked, she stumbles and lands on her bottom. Naruto picks her up gently, cuddles her to his chest for a moment, then returns the little girl to her plush seat.

"That was an… interesting impression," Hinata murmurs. After the uneasiness passes, she finally beginning to eat, her mind on her husband's antics. Although his transformation jutsu has improved a hundred times over since their Academy days, she secretly hopes that Naruto does not continue to show it off. He will give her a heart attack one of these days, scaring her with the faces of random people.

Naruto grins wildly, white teeth flashing. He winks one bright eye roguishly at Hinata, which causes her to blush crimson, disposition improving. "That's why I'm the Hokage!" he announces boldly, flexing his muscles. The effect is ruined by his loose dark clothing, but he is having such a good time that he does not notice.

"Kage!" Haruhi says, the word slightly accented. She bangs her cup upon the table like an exclamation.

_Some reason. At least Lady Tsunade is still around, in case things ever get tough. _The thought of her goofy, super strong husband being bailed out of danger by an old woman is too much for Hinata, and she giggles quietly, her previous good mood now fully restored.

Naruto narrows his eyes and slides around the fine table toward her. "What's so funny?" His voice is dark, but he is joking, she can tell.

"N-nothing," Hinata stammers, turning to face him and trying to control her laughing fit as he leans in very close. She leans back, trying to gain some personal space, still sitting with her legs folded ladlylike underneath her. Naruto keeps coming forward, like a hound scenting prey. He plants his hands onto her thighs and is almost in her lap when she takes the initiative and boldly presses her soft lips against his.

Naruto is in heaven. He tries to deepen the kiss, excited by the fact that Hinata tastes just like his favorite ramen. Which soon ends up all over them, because Haruhi is quite angry at being ignored. Shocked, they both turn to face the little spitfire just in time to receive another handful to the face.

"Haruhi!" Hinata yells, wiping wet foodstuff from her cheeks. "That's bad. Stop it!"

The little girl hears only her name, thinks nothing of it, and promptly chucks some more at them. Noodles splatter across the room, and drip down the cream colored walls.

Hinata sighs wearily. Naruto shuts his eyes, indicating his difficult thinking.

Oh yes, Neji will love parenthood.

* * *

_Four words for you; Did your teeth rot? I can't really believe I wrote something so sugary. Not only that, but I sort of recycled a chapter title. Any thoughts?_


	31. Contention: Masako and Hideyoshi

Naruto_ © Masashi Kishimoto._

_Author's notes: Thank you all for your patience. To be honest, this was sitting half finished on my computer for some time, and I was just so focused on other projects that I sort of forgot about it. Sorry!_

_I went back to angst with this one, and I warn you that it is dark. This chapter contains language warnings, as well as one for child abuse (not sexual). I'd love to know what you think._

**Contention**

The first time that Masako sees him it is an early fall day. The sun, not long risen, is beating down and bathing the world in a welcome warmth. Its light reflects brightly off of the deep waters of her private fish pond, and from this distance she has to shade her dark eyes with one delicate sleeve to see who is standing next beside it. Even then, straining, all she sees can make out is a silhouette. For a brief moment, she wishes she had the magic eyes of the clan she married into, rather than the long lashed, doe-like orbs of chocolate she was born with.

"Who's there? Identify yourself," she calls out imperiously, feeling slightly irritated. No one but the main family is allowed in this secluded little garden, and even now that she can see the figure is a child, she knows it is not one of hers. This one is too big, too grown. It is an unwelcome outsider, and Masako, having just learned that she is once again pregnant, has no desire to deal with one. She moves closer, high sandals keeping her silken kimono hem from dragging through the dewy grass, and gets the shock of her young life when the kid turns to face her.

As far as Hyuga go, the boy is the norm. Roughly ten, he is tall, with the flawless pale skin and pupil-less white eyes common to most of the family. His hair is jet black, thick, and cut fairly short. In Masako's opinion, it has been poorly shorn. And it could use a thorough brushing. Upon the child's bared forehead is the Curse Seal, faded to an inky forest green that convinces her he has had it for a long time. Hizashi's mark, after all, was still a bright color, almost neon, and he had carried it more than a year now.

But that isn't what disturbs her so. Under the said inscribed sign, this child wears her husband's face. Every detail is the same, from the brows to the high cheekbones to the lips. And as her curious eyes travel lower, past the thick neck and shoulders just beginning to broaden to the young back squared under her scrutiny, they spot something equally damning. On his thin chest, placed over the heart, is a small dark splotch, the very same birthmark her husband bears. The same mark she has seen on her daughter Hiroko's white skin.

This naked child is her husband's bastard, of that she is sure.

The idea is not as distressing as she had once thought it would be. When she was younger, and innocent, Masako had believed that marriage meant your husband would love you unconditionally, that he would be enduringly faithful. That there would never be other women, or children. But that had been a foolish, childish notion, the dream of a little girl hoping for a prince. The Great Lady that she has become knows far better, and can look with apathy at the illegitimate seed of her husband's loins. Besides, the age of the child proves he was conceived long before their actual marriage. There is no way to fault Hideyoshi, no true grounds for contention, even if she wished to do so.

_All that matters are my sons, and that they're given their rightful place. This child means nothing… Nothing at all. _

She returns her focus to the nude waif, only to find that he has gone right back to fishing, his body bent over the water and poised like a spring. Almost faster than her eyes can follow, his stubby fingers snatch a hold of the gills of one of her prize wining koi, and the brat lifts the beautiful tri-colored fish from the pond with an odd giggle. Holding the gasping animal in front of him, he begins to mock it, taking deep, gulping breaths of air.

Masako's fragile patience snaps, and she hurries forward, coming to stand just behind the oblivious and still playing child. For a moment, she debates upon grabbing him, but changes her mind. The thought of touching the dirty nude body is too much, and she settles for placing small hands upon her hips. "What do you think you're doing?" she asks, using a tone reserved for clumsy maids. She has never had to speak to any of her children in such a manner. "This is not a fishing hole."

The startled boy whirls to face her, his head going slightly back in order to get a good look at her. The sight of her great and terrible beauty is a little more than he expected, and the winded koi falls from his young arms to land with a smack upon the browning grass next to the pond. They both jump back from the flopping fish, the child nearly toppling into the pond itself. He quickly corrects his balance, somehow managing the feat so that his white eyes never leave her angry face.

"Fool," Masako hisses, stepping forward and grabbing the slimy, struggling thing. She carefully places it back into the clear water, grimacing at the feel of the scales across her soft palm and at the smell, which in her current delicate condition seems much worse than it should. The koi swims off hurriedly into the dark shadows cast by the dying lilies. She hopes the stress will not prove to much for the creature. "These fish are not for catching."

"Oh," the child says, still staring. An apology is not forthcoming, nor is a bow or any sort of introduction. The lack of manners combines with his unblinking gaze to further aggravate Masako. She decides that the boy is perhaps slow, or he must have had some ill-mannered whore for a mother. The later would not surprise her. She has seen some of the women that throw themselves at her husband, and none have the breeding that she does.

Masako readies herself to berate the imp, but the sight of his scrawny nude body is too distracting. She lifts her eyes back to his face and observes him disdainfully. "Put your kimono back on," she commands. "You should know better than to go around naked. Responsible people don't do that. Now, what's your name?"

The boy picks his gray and black checker-patterned kimono up from the ground at his feet, and shrugs back into it. There is a long moment of silence while he belts it up and adjusts the dirty hem. Then he glances back at her and gives a mischievous, slightly impertinent smile. His voice, when he finally speaks, is still the high pitch of youth. "My name's Hideki, although my father wanted to call me Haro. And you're really pretty."

Masako would snort, except that to do so is terribly unladylike. She settles for a frown that could easily be mistaken for a sexy pout, provided one did not notice the thin lowered eyebrows. Why must they always mention her beauty? Is that the only virtue she has? And this one, so young! She decides that her opinion of the mother must be dead-on, then cuts to the chase. "Do you know who your father is? Is that why you are here?"

Hideki nods, his bobbling head seeming too large for his body, and continues to eye her as if she were merely an illusion which would vanish with the first movement. As though she were a goddess incarnate. Finally, after an interminable wait in which Masako grows ever more frustrated, he finds his small voice again. "Yes, I know who he is. My mother told me. I was brought here because I have the Byakugan. I can see through things," he finishes proudly.

_I'll bet you can. You Hyuga are all the same when it comes to those eyes. Vain to the point of stupidity._

Masako's tone is sugary sweet, but her whole being is condescending. "And what will you do with those eyes of yours, hmm? Hopefully something better than stealing fish from and old lady's pond." No matter how many compliments this child gives, Masako has not forgotten his disruptive actions, and she intends to teach him a lesson. A reminder about his proper place in the world is in order.

After that, she might go visit her husband. Surely she and Hideyoshi, who have not been on speaking terms in a while, they have much to discuss now? Why his filthy, illegitimate branch child is playing with her fish would be a good place to start. The boy's very presence in the noble house is an insult to her and _their_ legal children. If her husband has any sense at all, he will send the stupid child right back where he came from. And good riddance.

"You're not an old lady," Hideki earnestly protests, taking one step closer. Disturbed by his nearness, Masako falls back a pace. The boy continues his train of thought, unperturbed. "You're younger than my mother. And good looking, too. I can see why my father married you."

One delicate eyebrow arches over the unlined skin of her face and her narrowed dark eyes. Behind the glacial, deadpanned mask, Masako struggles to comprehend what she has heard. Is this disgusting urchin hitting on her? Surely not. "You have no business speaking of my marriage. I'm the Lady of this house, and I'm still old enough to be your mother, so I suggest that you show a little more respect. Now, apologize."

"I'm sorry," he says, almost automatically. Nothing about the apology sounds genuine, and there is no respect in the gesture. For Masako, it is the most aggravating thing, this child's casual refusal to bend to her will. She wonders if she should have him beaten for his rudeness, then decides against it. No sense hitting the slow minded.

Another long, tense moment of staring passes wherein neither says a word, and then Masako gives a long suffering sigh and points back toward the house with one thin, well manicured finger. "Get out of my sight, and do not come back. This place is now off limits to you, and you'll be very sorry if I ever catch you here again." There, hopefully that was not too many words. At least none of them were big.

"Yes, Lady," Hideki says. He gives her another smile, this one as cheeky as the last, and then runs off, nearly knocking over their elderly gardener in his haste. Masako watches in exasperated disbelief, as he lets himself in through a main house door and forgets to slide it shut behind him.

Oh yes, she will be having a few words with Hideyoshi about this.

* * *

Some months later, she is sitting quietly in her luxurious rooms, calming overseeing her future daughter-in-law's lowly attempts at pouring tea with grace. On the far side of the room, sprawled belly down upon the green tatami like some sort of savage, is Hiroko. The child is playing at reading, holding a book upside down and kicking her tiny feet in an annoying, repetitive rhythm. Through an open shoji door, her little brother can be seen napping in a darkened antechamber. The as yet unborn sister rests in Masako's belly. It is a scene of domestic tranquility, and Masako, bred to the fast paced world of the rich and privileged royalty, is weary of it.

_This will be my last child, I think. They simply cause too many wrinkles, not to mention the damage they do to your figure. Or your mind._

A noise in the hallway, shouting and scuffling accompanied by heavy thumps, catches her attention. She looks toward the closed door with interest, her keen eyes missing the moment where young Hitomi's wrist bends weakly and the warm tea splatters onto the fine china saucer. The newly awakened baby begins to cry in the anteroom, and is quickly shushed by a maid.

Hiroko has her newly developed Byakugan activated and, although she is still facing the garden, is watching the scene in the corridor outside. Her tiny face, features so like those of her father, is scrunched into a look of confusion. She pipes up, voice quite and respectful but concerned. "Mama, there's a boy fighting with Brother Hizashi."

"Not Hiashi?" Masako asks, slightly put out because of her inability to see for herself. Even as the question leaves her mouth, however, she knows it is not so. Her twins know better than to fight inside the house, especially where their young siblings are resting.

"No," Hiroko confirms, and there is astonishment in her small voice. "It is another branch member!"

A rogue attack by a branch member? That means this is no play fight, no tussle between young children, and Masako's heart goes cold. She leaps to her feet as quickly as her swollen, aching body will allow, determined to protect her son. Rushing across the room, she throws the door open with much more force than necessary and stops short at the sight she is faced with.

Her son Hizashi is locked in combat with an older, larger boy. Despite the differences, he is giving a good account of himself, and as she watches he slugs the other child hard across the face, knocking him a few steps backward. The force of the blow spins the older kid around, and his bloody face meets her horror stricken one in shocked recognition.

"Oh, it's you. Hey, pretty lady."

_Hey, indeed. _For one brief second, this is all her startled mind can think.

It is Hideki, her husband's bastard, the one she had warned never to return to this part of the house. The baby in her womb kicks harshly, and it is this movement which stirs her brain into motion. Cold fury floods Masako's veins. How dare this brat ignore her orders? How dare he come here and attack _her_ son, a boy who ranked higher in the family than he could ever dream? How dare he?

Her anger is only fueled further when her dear little Hizashi spits a baby tooth onto the worn wooden floorboards. The sight of it, pale white and with the bloody pulp still hanging from the bottom, turns Masako into a shrieking fury, and she closes the distance between herself and Hideki quicker than the eye can follow. Her small fists pound anything within reach: head, shoulders, chest. Nothing is safe from her, and Hideki's body wilts under the assault.

Hizashi stands stunned as his normally calm mother rains blows upon this strange child who claimed to be his older, better brother. His mother is angry, is trying to protect him. He understands that much. What he cannot comprehend is how the other boy continues to grin up at her in a way that makes Hizashi feels sick on the inside. Like a dog that foams at the mouth, something is horribly wrong with this smiling, false half-brother.

Masako only stops when her tiny hands are red and bruised, shoulders narrow heaving, and she can no longer draw breath properly. Hideki lays at her dainty, _tabi_ encased feet, looking up at her and bleeding from a dozen wounds. He does not seem much pained, almost as though he is in rapture, and she suddenly wishes she had taken her steel edged fan to him and wiped that smirk away.

Or even that he were dead. Especially that.

"Mama?" Hiroko's voice in the doorway behind her is plaintive, and she wonders who else has witnessed this out of character beating.

"Go back inside, my darling." Masako knows not how she keeps the tremors from her voice.

"Yes, Mama." Hiroko does as she is told, and Masako thinks that she is a good child. She thinks that all her children are good, unlike this vermin with his face turned toward her, as though she is the sun. One of the boy's thin hands comes out and wraps around her ankle, and she kicks it off in disgust, eyes searching the hallway for rescue.

It appears in the form of another maid, peering from the stairwell. "You," Masako commands, beckoning her into view. "Go and fetch someone to remove this filth from my presence. Be sure you also send for a doctor for my son. And fetch my husband. Tell him it is an emergency."

The woman gives a little curtsy, eyes coolly assessing the situation, and then she turns and hurries off to do as she has been bid. A small girl, her young daughter, follows timidly behind her. Watching them go, Masako thinks that there also is another fine child. Her large eyes drift downward and she gives a little hiss, stepping away heavily and pulling her kimono hem back as though it has been soiled.

All of the other household children are good. Why must the one on the floor be different? Why must he haunt her so?

* * *

Hours later, after she has rested and seen to her babies, Masako meets with Hideyoshi. They sit apart in her spacious rooms, far across from one another. No love is lost in that large gap between them, and only the old and reliable courtesy keeps them from each others' throats. The meeting rapidly devolves into a staring match. Dark eyes glare at white, accusing.

Masako opens, trying to strike the first blow. "I was under the impression that this boy had been dealt with after the incident with my fish."

Hideyoshi inclines his head slightly, the usual frown tugging at his lips. The reply he gives her is political, noncommittal at best. "He was reminded of his place, yes."

Masako's tone becomes indignant. She points one finger at her husband, notes that the polished nail has been torn off in her attack, and quickly slides the hand back into its sleeve. "By you? Did you remind him?"

The quality of Hideyoshi's voice is no better. Arms cross over his broad chest, and he attempts to stare her down. "The matter was taken care of, Madam. I fail to see why you are so distressed."

_He's right. Calm down. You'll lose the baby._

Her hands fist into the fine material stretched over her thighs, but that is the only outward sign that anything is wrong. Masako's face freezes into an impassive mask. She has been working on this for years now, ever since Hizashi was born. How to show no emotion, how to give nothing away, how to lie through your teeth or die spiritually without anyone ever noticing. In this family, her life may depend upon it one day.

Having calmed down, she continues, still insistent, but her voice now has less of an edge. "But you did not speak with him, did you? You made it someone else's problem, one of the Elders I'll wager. And the ugly brat did not listen, because he respects no authority but your own."

_If even that…_

If Hideyoshi is surprised by her sudden change, he shows no sign of it. Two can play at that game. He lowers his voice, changing the timbre until he sounds almost caring. "How it was dealt with is not your concern, Wife. Just know that it was. That," he points toward her almost grossly fertile stomach, and clears his throat, "should be your only worry."

Masako knows he does not mean it in a kind way. This fifth pregnancy and her increasingly foul moods toward him have frustrated Hideyoshi to no end.

_Wait until the baby is actually born and I refuse you to your face. Maybe I should do it at dinner, in front of the whole family? No, I don't want the children asking questions._

The thought of her babies puts her back on track. Her husband's humiliation can wait a while. "It is my concern, Husband, because today my son was attacked right outside my very door! He was hurt, not too badly, thank goodness, and my other children were frightened. And you sit here with no desire to address the problem you have created."

Hideyoshi does not like being blamed for anything. As a man whose decisions have never been questioned, at least not publicly, why would he? Pearl eyes narrow at her, and he tenses. "I created? How so?"

It takes everything Masako has to keep the mocking tone from her voice. "Well, Hideki certainly wasn't immaculate, was he? You must have done at least a little work? Or did you lie on your back and let the whore take care of it all?"

The jibes at his manhood and first lover are more than he can take. If he could, Hideyoshi would strangle her here and now. Lips quirk into a sinister something that resembles a smile. He is about to harm her far more deeply than she has ever thought possible, and he will enjoy it. "I'll have you know that the fight was not Hideki's fault."

"Oh?" Masako remains dubious, outwardly calm.

"Hiashi has already spoken with his brother, and he has gleaned the truth of the matter. Hideki _was_ taunting Hizashi, that much is true. But it was Hizashi who first became violent, and as he bears the Curse Seal it was nothing more than a fight between two branch members. Both will be punished for disturbing the family's harmony."

_My son will be punished also? My Hizashi? No…_

Masako's heart actually skips a beat, her porcelain skin going cold and clammy. On her lap, hands fist tightly together, nails cutting little red crescents into the fleshy palms. Hot, burning bile rises into her suddenly too tight throat, threatening to choke her. Maybe that is a good thing, for she would like nothing more than to scream right now. Both should be punished? Gods, how could she have married this man, this tyrant?

_You cowardly asshole! Those are your children. Learn to deal with them._

After a long time, she finds her voice, and somehow she keeps the anger from it. People are more likely to see reason when they are not being yelled at. Or perhaps she just does not have the energy necessary. "I fail to see why Hizashi should be chastised for defending his family's honor."

Hideyoshi knows he has wounded her, and the knowledge calms him slightly. Finally, she hurts in the way he does, and has. That her pain comes at the expense of their second son is an issue he has long since come to terms with. "We are no longer Hizashi's family, simply his clan. He hasn't been a part of us since he was marked. He need not defend our honor from another clan member."

Masako suddenly realizes that her husband is equating Hizashi and the filthy urchin. The thought is disgusting to her, and she must feign indifference. One eyebrow arches. "You would put Hideki above _our_ son? _Our_ legal flesh and blood?"

_My heart?_

The world seems to still as she waits for his answer. It is not long in coming, but Masako feels as though she ages lifetimes in the moment.

In Hideyoshi's mind, the family hierarchy is clear, and has been for some time now. Ever since he sat down with the Elders to decide the fate of the younger twin, he has divided his family thus. There is no grey, only black and white. Now if only Masako could understand. He tries to state it plainly. "I am not putting one above the other. I am saying they are equals. They are equally below us, below Hiashi. As are our other children."

_Only Hiashi is worth anything to you? How can that be? What of the others?_

Masako takes a deep, shuddering breath and feels the baby kick at her insides. Perhaps she is feeling rather indignant at being labeled a lesser breed even before her birth. Her mind idly wonders what sort of child it will become, feeding off the fear and hate and bitterness that she is harboring. Still, she could be no more a monster than her father. A whisper is all that she can manage. "So, what will become of them?"

* * *

_I'm ending the chapter here, because it has become so long, and the rest of it takes place in the distant future anyway. More action between Hideki and his half-siblings will be coming up, but I think I will return to Neji soon. I'll try to update in a more timely matter in the future. Thanks!_


End file.
